


Light a thousand fires under me.

by SovereignChicken



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:28:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SovereignChicken/pseuds/SovereignChicken
Summary: It’s the first day of senior year and you can’t help but to be drawn to her voice.It’s soft but clear and commands your attention drawing you out of your doodles and daydreams.You look up.And there she is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope your holidays are happy. 
> 
> It occurred to me that I frequently write Clarke and Lexa as older. So here's a HSAU because they are actually baby beans in canon.
> 
> I know. I know. I have other fics to update. I'll get there.

It’s the first day of senior year and you’re not paying attention.

School is easy for you.

You’ve never had to pay much attention. You can goof off with your friends or spend the hours doodling and you’ll do well.

You take the time, after school and on the weekends, to figure it out yourself. You’ve always been self-taught at everything. Classroom discussions and lectures only serve to bore you to tears, the pace maddeningly slow.

So you ignore it. It works for you.

But.

It’s the first day of senior year and you can’t help but to be drawn to her voice.

It’s soft but clear and commands your attention drawing you out of your doodles and daydreams.

You look up.

And there she is.

She’s at the front seat of the row to your left.

You sit at the very back.

You always have.

But suddenly you want to sit beside her.

No.

Face to face with her because you want to see her face as she talks.

You know who she is of course.

You’ve been in school with her since..well..your earliest memories of school.

Lexa.

Lexa who you know will be valedictorian at the end of the year.

You know because that was your plan but you spent your last two summers with your father’s family in Alaska and didn’t take the extra classes she did.

Lexa who is so kind and good that the sting of coming in as salutatorian is an honour instead.

Lexa who you’ve somehow never managed to have a class with despite the fact that you’ve both been in honours classes since your teachers realized that you were both advanced for your age.

Your friends have had classes with her.

Raven had her as a lab partner in Chemistry and you learned from her that Lexa was quiet but could get through a lab report in a quarter of the time it took the rest of the class.

Octavia had a group project with her in Government and from her you learned that Lexa was selected in her group immediately as the president of her group’s mock campaign and she blew the class away with her eloquent victory speech that had the entire class in tears.

Bellamy had her in History and from him you learned that her essays were constantly featured on the wall for her insight and ability to parse events for their causes and effects to a degree that had the teacher in awe.

But your interactions with her, despite your curiosity, have been limited to polite smiles across the hallway.

You know her and you don’t and it’s confusing how much you suddenly want to erase the don’t.

“Any thoughts on what Lexa just said?” Mr. Kane asks enthused no doubt at the prospect of earnest discussion.

You can’t even think of the words Lexa said but you feel like you’ll never forget the way her mouth sounded around the words.

“Clarke?” You hear startling out of your daze to meet Mr.Kane’s expectant look.

“I..uhh..” you begin to respond dumbly before your eyes flit over to hers.

Your heart stops.

It feels like minutes before it restarts and you pant a breath out in relief.

Her eyes are so green and her face tilted just so in curiosity and all you can think to say is, “I wasn’t listening.”

You don’t miss the way Lexa turns at that.

And her face..was that disappointment?

Your heart aches suddenly.

“Can I be excused?” you blurt out interrupting whatever Mr. Kane was about to say in response to your admission, “I’m not really..I don’t feel so good.”

He frowns but nods and gestures for you to walk up to the front of the class. You stuff your notebook and the assigned novel in your bag and zip it shut before you sling it over your shoulder and make your way up. You can hear the restless murmur of your fellow students but in your periphery but Lexa is quiet as usual, eyes trained on her book.

Kane pulls out a slip and writes on it quickly, “What’s wrong Clarke?” he asks.

“Just.. stomach.” You mumble and he watches you perceptively for a moment before he scribbles on the slip and hands it to you.

You grab it and walk out to the sounds of the now noisy class and his attempts to quiet them.

And as you step into the hallway, you turn.

She’s watching you.

And it feels like too much.

So you duck your head and make haste to the nurse’s office.

You’ve been here before on this very bed when you’d come down with the flu two semesters ago.

The way the nurse looks you over is familiar and the way she suggests you sit and see how you feel at the end of the period is expected.

You wait and the way your stomach churns makes it seem like your sudden illness wasn’t quite feigned.

You feel like a changed person.

Can a few minutes in an English class change your whole perspective?

English teachers would hope so, you’re sure but you feel scared at the prospect. Especially when it’s not literature that’s affected you so deeply.

It’s.. Her.

And you don’t know what that means.

The bell rings too soon.

You sigh and call to the preoccupied nurse that you’re feeling better and she nods and smiles as you leave. Your mind swirls with thoughts of the Calculus class that you’re headed to and you don’t see her until you almost run into her.

“Clarke.” Lexa says out of breath.

And you want to turn and look around because she can’t possibly be talking to you but your name never sounded sweeter and your mouth rushes to respond in an exalting breath, “Lexa.”

You meet her eyes and she seems almost startled to see you.

You watch, fidgeting, as she schools her features before she speaks, “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

And you’re confused for a moment, frowning as you try and understand, “You left in a hurry and..” She trails off.

Of course.

You ran off claiming to be ill.

“Yeah. Good.” You manage.

She tilts her head and bites her lip and it feels like your whole axis has been upended. “Good.” She responds almost nervous, “Okay.” She nods and backs away.

It feels like an entire day’s worth of time is suspended between you but you’re unable to find a way to speak to her so you instead watch as she almost stumbles in her haste to get away from you.

You don’t blame her.

But as you watch her turn and go back the way she came from, you realize that she only came this way for you.

To check on you.

You don’t know what that means but you’re an idiot.

“Lexa!” you call.

But it’s lost in the sounds of the hallway and the distance that’s already sprouted between you and you don’t know how you feel about that.

 

You think about skipping English the next day.

It’s easy and you don’t need to be there for it. But you feel torn at the prospect so you drag your feet down the hallway and force yourself into the class.

It’s empty.

Evidently you dragged your feet quite quickly. You head to the back and pull out your notebook and novel and settle in with your eyes staring at the first page of the novel.

It’s long minutes before anyone enters the class and when they do, it’s her.

Of course it is.

You can’t help but look up.

She beat you to it.

She’s frozen, almost comically, with her hand on the strap of her backpack watching you.

Your cheeks flush at the attention.

She shakes her head quickly before she asks softly, “How are you feeling?”

You nod dumbly in lieu of a verbal response, heart thudding vigorously and she simply nods back and turns to sit.

You want to call to her. But what would you say?

The rest of the class filters in and as it begins your attention is redirected to your doodles on your notebook.

But.

You perk up when she speaks.

You can’t help it.

She exudes…something and you’re helpless. 

“..she’s lonely but she feels like she deserves it. A punishment if you will for choosing to leave.” 

“Excellent Lexa! Any other thoughts on this chapter.” Mr. Kane exclaims.

And oh do you have thoughts.

About the chapter of course. You read it last night. But there’s time to articulate the thoughts in an essay later.

The thoughts you want to sing now are about the way Lexa’s bare neck looks with her slightly tamed hair cascading down the opposite shoulder.

Soft and smooth.

You’re thinking about touch...

A buzz your pocket has you pulling out your phone instinctively.

**Finn: im bored and I miss youu**

Your boyfriend.

Shit.

You should be thinking about his neck.

What kind of neglectful girlfriend doesn’t think about her boyfriend’s neck?

You’ll think about it now, English class be damned.

It’s thick and neck-like you suppose.

“Clarke any thoughts?”

Damnit.

“Uhh on the chapter?”

“Yes Clarke on the chapter.” Mr. Kane says patiently.

“Yup.” You nod. “Good chapter. Solid chapter.”

Chuckles erupt through the class and the one laugh you suddenly desperately crave is absent. Lexa has her back turned to you and is entirely focused on the book in front of her.

And is that disappointment you read in the set of her shoulders?

Can you read disappointment in the set of someone’s shoulders? 

“I’d like to see you after class, Clarke, for a minute.”

The chorus of ‘ooooohs’ is instantaneous and its accompaniment of Zoe’s ‘Oh Griffin you’re in trouble’ sends the class into a short frenzy that’s capped when Mr. Kane claps his hands and resumes the lesson.

You barely pay attention and when the bell rings, you hurriedly stuff your belongings into you bag and make your way to the front.

You stand awkwardly at the side of his desk as your classmates pack up and make their way out and watch as he calls out for them to remember the reading quiz tomorrow.

You clutch onto the straps on your backpack and your eyes naturally wander over to her.

Of course they do.

She’s standing and swinging her own bag onto her shoulders when her eyes flit over to yours.

She freezes.

And for a moment it seems like time stops.

Your breath catches.

She’s so beautiful and you..

Mr. Kane walks up to you and breaks your line of sight. “Clarke talk to me. Have you done the reading?”

You nod, frustrated and crane your neck around him but she’s gone.

“Clarke, a large percentage of your grade is in participation. We talked about this when we went over the syllabus yesterday.”

“Yeah we did. I was just distracted today. Won’t happen again.”

He frowns but nods after a few moments, stepping aside to let you pass. “Alright Clarke, I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget about the reading quiz.”

You forget about the reading quiz.

After school, Finn calls and talks about football practice and you barely listen as you thumb through past yearbooks in search of her.

You find her. Every year just like you expected to and she looks just like you remember her looking.

You’re not really sure what information you hope to glean. But then you find something. It’s a short feature on her.

‘What I do in my spare time’

You remember this subject because you’d done one yourself.

You gasp as you read hers.

She talks about the group home she grew up in before she was adopted and how she likes to go back and help out.

It’s short and it’s sweet and you wonder how you never knew in a school where people like to talk so much.

You absently flip the pages untill you come to yours.

A familiar pang hits you.

Because fifteen year-old you loved to spend time woodworking with your father but seventeen year-old you hasn’t set foot in the garage since he died.

You don’t sleep. 

 

You startle to attention when the boy in front of you..Sterling? When Sterling hands you a quiz.

Shit.

You look around the class to see other students passing back quizzes before hunching over them to begin writing.

You look down at yours.

You’ll be able to get through the first couple of questions easily but the remainder.

Well.

You’d sniffled yourself to sleep in lieu of reading the corresponding chapter.

You fill out what you can in seconds and walk it to the front before anyone else is close to done and you don’t miss the look in Lexa’s eyes as you walk back. Is that..disappointment?

You’re reeling all of a sudden because this girl, this sweet girl, who works so hard to do so well in school, and who helps out kids who had the same rough start she did in her free time and who speaks so eloquently..

This girl, probably thinks so little of you now. And rightly so considering..

“Clarke.”

“What now, Kane?” You snap as you whirl around.

The class is eerily silent.

Zoe shakes her head in your periphery and all eyes are turned to you.

Except hers.

She has her eyes on her paper and her shoulders high.

Her fingers are gripping the pencil but she’s not writing.

You want to reach out but Mr. Kane steps forward face full of concern.

You look away.

You hear him clear his throat before he speaks quietly. “Clarke get your bag and meet me outside please.”

You nod and walk back to your desk.

You’ve never heard this or any class so silent and it’s deafening.

Mr. Kane straightens from where he was writing on a slip and you follow him, bag in hand as he leaves the room.

You turn to look back.

All eyes are on you.

Hers too.

But they’re trained at your feet as if she doesn’t want to look at you.

You shiver.

You walk out and close the door behind you.

Mr. Kane looks weary as you stand in the hallway. “Clarke..” he starts.

“I know.” You say.

Because you do.

You’re on your way to being the salutatorian.

Everyone knows it.

This behavior is completely uncharacteristic.

It’s only been three days since the beginning of the semester.

He hands you the slip and it’s not until you’re several steps away that the dread hits you.

You’ve been kicked out of class a total of 3 times, all in your sophomore year, and you know that it’s going to go the same way the last three did.

When you get to the office, you hand the slip over to the receptionist and sit down to wait. It’s not a long wait and she quirks her head to the office to let you know you can go in.

You knock on the door before you ease it open and you walk in warily. Your eyes trail on the assistant principal plaque that lines his desk.

“Clarke, hey. Good morning.”

“Mr. Miller.” You acknowledge.

He nods, “Okay let’s see.” He says as he smooths down the slip. “Mr. Kane tried to address your unfinished quiz and..” he mumbles.

He looks up.

“How about we get you down the hall?”

You expected this.

He stands and makes his way around the desk, slip in hand, before walking out and motioning for you to follow.

You do follow, dragging your feet the entire way, until he gets to the principal’s office and knocks on the door. He opens it and signs for you to wait before he goes in. You hear the soft mumbling of a quick conversation before he walks out and gestures for you to go in. You send him a pleading look and he does all he can by squeezing your shoulder on his way back to his office.

You walk in.

“Clarke.” Your mother says prim and proper and entirely too serious as always.

“Mom.”

“Sit.”

You sit.

You look around the room, unchanged probably since her first day, and wait for her to speak again.

She takes her time reading the slip before she straightens, places her reading glasses on her desk, and considers you. “Clarke, what is this?”

“A referral slip.” You answer flippantly.

Her reaction is instantaneous.

She regards you with a cold look before she grabs another slip from her drawer. “Detention. The rest of this week and next week. After school.” She says as she writes neatly.

“What about debate practice?” You ask for the fun of it.

Well..mostly.

You like to rile her up.

Or rather you’ve been stuck in this pattern on riling her up for the past couple of years.

But.

Honestly you’re hoping she’ll consider the merits of a debate championship on your college applications and cut you some slack.

“Detention. The rest of this week and next week.” She repeats, “Sit in the chairs outside till the bell for your next class rings will you?”

And her tone is almost sweet.

But the slip in her hand and the glint in her eyes say otherwise.

So you grab the slip and make to follow her instructions.

She doesn’t say anything as you leave.

You didn’t really expect her to.

With your bag at your feet, you play with your hands as you sit at the reception and silently beg for time to pass.

You don’t do well with waiting.

You never have.

Time gives you ample opportunity to think.

And if you do, well..you’ll think of her.

Is she thinking about you?

What does she think about you?

When did you become a character in a nineties teen angst tv show?

The bell rings saving you from that line of introspection and the day passes uneventfully considering you haven’t managed to cause a scene or begun to ruin your gpa in the rest of your classes.

“Griffin!” Raven calls grabbing your elbow and spinning you around as you leave your last class of the day. “You okay?”

You groan as you catch sight of her worried face.

Honestly, this school is so small.

“Who was it? Zoe?” you ask.

“Does it matter? You weren’t at lunch either.” she retorts. She pauses and sees your unrelenting expression, “Yeah it was Monroe. She’s worried about you. And she was just the first person who came to me. Everybody’s talking about it!”

Of course they are. You sigh and shake your head.

“I’m fine. Just gotta get to detention.”

Raven loosens her grip on your elbow and winces understandingly, “Your mom?”

You nod. “Gotta go before I get in trouble for being late.” You say as you start to back away from her.

She gives you a look as you go and you know that this conversation isn’t over.

Oh well.

You text your team letting them know you’ll miss practice and enter the assigned room reluctantly.

“Lexa?” you blurt.

You can’t help it.

Because she’s here.

In detention.

Did you go the wrong way?

Did you step into Calculus BC squared or something? The ultimate Calculus where people like Lexa no doubt thrive?

She’s looking at you.

Of course she is.

You walked into the room and said her name before proceeding to have an internal monologue.

“Hi.” You manage.

And really, what could be worse?

A buzz.

**Finn: hey babe, where are you?**

**Finn: no practice today remember?**

**Finn: waiting by the gym like we said.**

Oh yeah.

That’s worse.

You type out a response quickly. **Detention. Will explain later.** But before you hit send, your phone is whisked off and into the teacher’s desk drawer.

An impassive Mr. Pike looks back at you. “Ms. Griffin. Detention is a time in which we reflect on what we do wrong and catch up on our studies. Your phone should be involved in neither of those activities. Now sit.”

Lexa’s watching you and you’re wondering why you tested fate with your rhetorical question.

But she’s..is that amusement?

Is she looking at you with..

“Ms. Griffin. I will not ask you again.” Mr. Pike warns and you heed it without question.

You sit in the front row.

You’re not sure you’ve ever done that and your feet itch to walk to the back as you try to get comfortable but you’re here and she’s right beside you.

You watch her almost unabashedly throughout detention.

Your hand moves as you watch.

You draw the way she crooks her pinky finger into the page as if her novel is suddenly going to close and seal words away forever.

You draw the furrow of her brow and the raise of her lips in a smile as she navigates the story.

And then you stop because that’s creepy and you settle for drawing the fake plant that sits on Mr. Pike’s desk.

Time’s slow passage taunts you and you try desperately to ignore the enormity of the feeling you have for the girl to your left.

Because you’re in high school.

Because it’s been three days since senior year started and you feel like you’re spiraling.

Because you’ve never spoken to her.

Because you have Finn.

Because..

The bell rings startling you and you look up to see Mr. Pike summoning you with his index finger.

You pack up your sketchbook and walk up to him. He hands you your phone and lectures about the purpose of detention and by the time he’s done, the room has cleared out.

You’ve missed several calls and texts from Finn, the last of which informs you that he found out about your detention from Raven and that he’s left and to call him as soon as possible.

You’ll wait.

Because you’re walking out of the school doors reveling in your freedom and she’s mere feet away from you.

“Hey.” You call out as you walk up.

She turns.

She’s beautiful.

You hold your breath.

She cocks her head expectantly.

Right.

You called out to her.

“Need a ride?” You manage.

She hesitates. “No thanks.” She says softly before sending you a smile.

You respond in kind but she hesitated and you’re dizzy from her smile and you feel emboldened. “Come on. It’ll be raining soon.” You gesture at the darkening sky.

She hesitates again and it feels like forever but she nods and your heart sets off at a blistering pace.

You lead the way to your old Volvo, praying it starts on the first try even though you know she wouldn’t make fun of you.

Still, you’ve heard more than enough jokes about how you need to be gentle with it before you get going because everything is an innuendo to the boys at this school.

You dump your backpack in the back seat and slide into the front.

It’s clean only because you cleared it out before it spent a couple of days in the shop last week for a clutch replacement.

Lexa slips in cautiously, gripping her bag as she puts her seatbelt on before she sits rigidly waiting expectantly for you to..

Oh right.

You start the car.

Mercy.

It roars to life and you ease it out of the mostly empty lot.

“Do you know Crestford?”

You do because that’s where Raven lives and you say as such.

“I live off Red Glen.” She adds.

“I know where that is.”

She nods in acknowledgement, “Thank you, Clarke.”

And it takes everything in you to keep the car in your lane at the sound of your name.

The drive is silent.

Not uncomfortably so.

Far from it.

But you’re unused to it.

All your friends talk at every opportunity and though you enjoy them, you find yourself reveling in just being.

It’s over all too soon when she indicates her house, white and much like its neighbouring houses save for the blue door.

You creep up the driveway and stop the car before turning to look at her.

“Clarke, thank you.” And it’s so sincere and meaningful and you want to tell her that it isn’t a big deal at all but instead you smile and respond honestly, “You’re welcome. Anytime.”

She swallows and freezes for a second before she nods and climbs out of your car.

You watch her walk up to the door as you back up and continue to watch her as you drive up to the nearby stop sign.

She’s rummaging through her bag and her pockets almost frantically and you hurriedly back up and drive right back into her driveway.

She looks up as you hop out of your car with your hands in your pocket.

She furrows her brow.

“No key?”

“It’s okay. It’s in here. Don’t worry about it.”

But you do and so you lean back against your door until she gets the point and starts to rummage through her things again.

She’s persistent, you’ll give her that and she checks every nook and cranny at least five times before she looks back at you, unsure.

“Anywhere I can take you?”

She shakes her head slowly. “No. I shouldn’t. They’ll be back from my younger sister’s session soon.”

You nod. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

“No!” She protests. “I’m fine. They won’t be long. I’m sure you have..” She trails off as you approach.

You head right past her and straight for the porch where you sit stubbornly. Because of there’s anything you are, it’s stubborn.

She turns and watches you with a frown as if she’s gauging how to convince you otherwise. But you’re steadfast and you stare across the street deliberately avoiding her gaze.

She sighs, eventually coming to join you on the porch and even though there’s space between you, you can feel her heat.

You’re wondering if this was a good idea when she speaks up. “I called John Murphy a narcissistic self-pitying shit who has the emotional intelligence of a toothpick.”

And you laugh.

Hard.

Because it’s unexpected and oh so wonderful and she joins you unabashedly in your mirth.

It’s blissful minutes before your collective laughter dies down into sighs and when you’ve been quiet for a few seconds you can’t help but ask, “A toothpick?”

Lexa shakes her head, “Well, he had one in his mouth and I mean..I was improvising.”

You crack a wide grin and shake your head at her. “Had you ever been in detention before this?”

She’s introspective suddenly and when she speaks, it’s in almost a whisper, “Yes. Once.”

You wait patiently for her to speak.

She sighs.

“Costia.” She finally says.

And you remember Costia.

You remember her vitality and her loud laugh. You remember the way Lexa smiled around her. You remember the rumours.

But Costia left halfway through junior year and the mill moved on to the next target.

But you remember the way the rumours had made you feel.

Conflicted.

But you don’t need to revisit this now.

“We were..she was..I mean..we skipped out on class and we were..umm kissing in an empty classroom.”

“Oh.” You say.

How inadequate.

She’s staring at her shoes and you need to do better.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been caught making out.”

“No?” She mumbles out.

“Nah. What am I? An amateur? I got spots, Lexa. Discretion is my middle name.”

She turns to you incredulously before she bursts out in laughter and the gratefulness in her eyes is suffocating.

You look away.

“Do you still talk to her?” And it’s sick really, how curious you are.

You see her shake her head in your periphery.

“Not much.” She shrugs. “We’re still friends but she’s on her path and I’m on mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She was mine. I loved her. But I think we both knew it had a time limit.” She pauses and bites her lip contemplatively. “It ended well. I mean I was sad but she was moving and things were changing..and what can you do? You know?” 

You don’t.

You don’t think so.

Finn is nice and you think you love him but you don’t think it’s the same.

If it were, you’d be at his house complaining about detention.

Heck.

You probably wouldn’t have had detention in the first place.

You wouldn’t be making comparisons.

Fuck.

Lexa laughs, startling you, “Sorry. I just..I didn’t mean to..”

“Hey!” You interrupt, shocking both yourself and her, “Don’t feel like you need to apologize for talking to me. This is..it’s nice.”

And nice is such an ill-fitting word.

Such an understatement.

But it’ll have to do.

Because describing how you feel right now about sitting with her and talking to her…it’s the kind of honesty that should be buried away.

For the sake of both parties.

Because it’s been three days since the semester started.

“What about you? Are you a detention veteran?”

Right.

That’s where the conversation had started.

“Had a couple sophomore year.”

You don’t elaborate.

You think she knows.

She doesn’t ask.

“I’ll be done on Friday. I’ll have to miss a Student Gov meeting tomorrow.” She says and you're grateful for the change of subject.

You hum understandingly. “Missed debate today and will miss it next week.”

She whips around to look at you incredulously. “What? Next week too? Just for snapping at Mr. Kane? Did you hear what I called Murphy?”

You chuckle lightly, “I heard. But when your mom is the one doling out punishments..”

“Ahh. Rough.”

“Naww. Having to sit through Student Government meetings. That’s rough. I can only imagine the horror. This? Cake.” You tease.

She laughs delightfully and nudges you hard.

You struggle to regain your balance and send a faux glare.

“Hey!” She protests, hands raised, “You just insulted my passion!”

You roll your eyes at her dramatics and drawl lazily back, “I merely implied that it might be terrible.”

She stutters out, torn visibly between frustration and laughter before huffing and giving in to the laughter.

You’re staring.

You know.

You fucking know.

She’s so beautiful and you want to..

You want to..

You grab the material of her shirt and the last thing you see before you lean in are her wide eyes.

You kiss her and your whole body is thrumming.

She responds immediately and you’re taken aback by the softness of her lips.

You feel her hand hesitantly touch your neck before gaining confidence and pulling you closer.

You can’t think.

You can’t breathe.

There’s a reason you shouldn’t be doing this.

Fuck.

You pull your mouth away from hers but keep your forehead on hers as you turn your head.

Fuck.

“Lex..” You breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

“Lex..Lexa I’m sorry.” You say before you pull away from her entirely, fingers itching to grab fabric and more, lips aching to.. “I should go.” You say as your open your eyes.

Hers are wide and unfocused and her lips are wet and parted and fuck.

She shakes her head as if to clear it.

You stand.

Fuck.

“I’m gonna head umm head home.”

She watches you, eyes so full of..Fuck.

And then just a stoic look.

You’re impressed at her ability but there’s other things to focus on. 

A car pulls up in the driveway next to yours and you both turn your heads in shock.

“I should..” She turns back to you. “Bye.” You manage before you dart to your car and peel out.

You ignore the way the stern-looking woman who exits the car looks at you.

You ignore the way Lexa watches you as she rises to meet the woman.

You ignore the stop sign.

You ignore your heartbeat.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please. Please. Just please. I need to talk to you. Only for a bit.**
> 
> You toss the piece of paper on her desk after you hastily scrawl on it without so much as a glance at Mr. Pike.
> 
> You’re lucky he doesn’t see it.
> 
> She opens it. Slowly like she did before and you can’t read her face.
> 
> What is she thinking?
> 
> She nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Happy New Year. 
> 
> Warning for Clarke making some poor choices with regards to 'ol Finn and the anxiety she has after. 
> 
> She's not so different from young SovereignChicken or should I say SovereignChick.

You drive straight to Finn’s.

It’s probably a bad idea but this week has been full of them.

You sit in your car for the better part of an hour as you stare at his house.

Your phone has been buzzing intermittently but in the midst of the swirling thoughts in your head, you haven’t checked it.

You can see that his bedroom light is on but you can’t see his silhouette.

He’s probably on his computer gaming.

On any other day, you’d probably be on the phone with him. He’d talk and listen attentively, managing to effectively multitask. You’d laugh at his whoops of victory and ask a dumb question about the game just to get him on a tangent.

Fuck.

You get out of your car and walk up to the door.

You ring the bell and hear the bounding of the Finn’s dog, Clooney, as he comes up excitedly to the door.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open and Finn’s surprised mother to greet you. “Clarke, I didn’t expect you!”

“Uhh yeah, sorry. Late debate meeting. Stopping by to grab my notes.” You respond as you try to wrangle Clooney who has decided that jumping on you is his best course of action.

“Oh well. Okay.” She acknowledges with her perpetual smile. “Finn!” She calls up as she moves closer to the bannister. “Clarke’s here!”

She turns and nods at you to go up before she claps her hands to get Clooney’s attention from you and retreats into the living room with him at her heels.

You make your way up slowly and Finn looks at you confusedly from his doorway.

He shakes it off quickly as he moves to meet you, “Hey princess.”

He kisses you and his stubble brushes your chin.

It’s nice.

It’s okay.

“You okay?” he asks as he ushers you into his room.

“Door open!” You hear the call from downstairs.

Finn rolls his eyes good-naturedly but obeys it.

He sits on his bed and taps the space next to him. “What’s up? I’ve been texting and calling.”

You feel exhausted all of a sudden and you stumble forward face first into the bed. You feel his hand rubbing your back. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks worriedly.

And this is what you hate about him. As far as high school boyfriends go, he’s the cream of the crop. Athletic, smart, charming. But also kind, considerate, and sweet.

But.

You don’t know what.

Well.

You do.

It’s always been nice.

Not exciting.

But nice.

But your heart is still beating wildly from kissing her. And you wonder if that’s how you should feel with him.

No probably not.

Because you want Lexa as a friend.  

Right?

No.

A good friend.

The kiss and the fact that you’re still dizzy from it..well, maybe it’s just a latent heart condition.

You think about the way her lips burned against..Latent heart condition. That’s what it has to be.

You roll over and sit up with your head in your hands.

His hand moves to your shoulder.

“Is your mom mad?”

And really that’s the furthest thing from your mind.

“I kissed someone.”

Fuck.

It’s out there.

You said it.

His hand moves from your shoulder.

Is honesty the best policy in a situation like this?

You don’t know.

You don’t know a lot of things.

“Oh.” He says simply and it’s so small. “You umm, you kissed him? He didn’t kiss you first?”

You groan. “I kissed first. I kissed her first.”

“Oh.” He says again. And it’s even smaller. “Why?” he asks.

And what are you supposed to say to that? You shake your head. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just feel so lost.”

His hand gently cups the side of your face. “Clarke. Look at me.”

You do.

You have no idea what to expect but he has a determined smile on his face. “We can work this out. Spend more time together. Senior year is more stressful but we can fix this together.”

What?

That’s definitely not what you were expecting.

But then you realize it’s exactly what you should have expected.

Finn is kind and sweet and understanding and of course he would try and work this out.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” And you do. It’s just..

Fuck.

You sit there watching him for long quiet minutes as he runs his fingers lightly along your face. “We should talk about it.” He says.

“I know. We will.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for understanding and being so..” you trail off shaking your head as tears flood your eyes.

“Hey hey. It’s us okay?”

You nod shakily and he pulls you into a hug.

You hug him until his mom calls down for dinner and you have to leave.

There’s half-eaten pizza on the counter when you get home and your mom has already locked herself away in her room.

You grab a few slices and toss the box in the fridge before heading to your room.

You do your reading and catch up the homework from your other classes and you try desperately not to think of her.

 

Thursday brings rain and your Volvo is stubborn.

You make it to school with only a few minutes to spare and you have to jog to get to class.

Finn is waiting by the door. “Hey.” You say confused and breathless. He’s probably going to be late for his own class.

“Hey.” He greets kissing you on the cheek, “Where were you?”

“Car wouldn’t start.” You say as you run a hand through your wet tendrils.

He frowns. “Okay.” He says, “You should go in. I’ll see you later.”

You do see him.

Immediately after class.

He hugs you.

Hard.

“Hey. How was class?”

“Umm good.” You respond, stunned.

“That’s good babe.” He says as he grabs your backpack and slings his arm around your shoulder.

You don’t speak as you walk to your next class and he plants frequent kisses on your cheek before looking around the hallway as if expecting a challenge.

You almost sigh in relief as you get to your Art History class and slip in while he watches.

He’s there again waiting after class and you don’t have the heart to say anything.

You’d planned out with him on the first day of school to only see each other in the morning before classes, after your afternoon physics class and when school let out before his practice.

Your schedules don’t really allow you to see each other more and you know he’s going to be late to every class but what can you say?

The walk to English mirrors the walk to your last class and when you arrive at the classroom, he places a long lingering kiss that lasts until the warning bell rings.

When you walk in, Lexa won’t meet your eyes.

She’s got her head down and her eyes on her book and you watch her for a few seconds before you jolt yourself into realization.

You take your usual place at the back of the class and try to remember how to breathe.

You’d been ignoring the looming threat of English class and now that it’s here you don’t know what to do.

You feel frazzled and all wrong and you just want to lay your head down until the class ends.

As it is, the class passes excruciatingly slowly.

You hadn’t realized how much Lexa drove the class until her voice was absent.

There’s no discussion and most of your classmates seem unsure.

You see more than a few glances at Lexa and you contribute more than your fair share of them as well.

By the end of class Mr. Kane is visibly frustrated. “Participation grade guys!” He calls out as the class packs up amidst murmurs. “Clarke, see me.” He adds before he leans and says something to Lexa who is leaving in a hurry.

She pauses and says something to him before running off and her sighs as he watches after her.

Your heart aches.

You have to talk to her.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at the empty doorway until Mr. Kane calls your name unsurely.

You walk up, half preoccupied. “Hey. Listen. You didn’t do great on that quiz.”

You look up.

“I drop two in the whole semester remember?” You nod mutely. “So you have plenty of opportunity to make it up. Just keep up with your reading okay.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I’m here and your counselors are here if you need to talk.”

“I know.”

“Alright. I’ll let you go.”

You nod again and make your way out of class.

A hand grabs your arm.

“What took you so long?”

“What?” You reply dazedly.

“In there?” he gestures.

“Oh.” You realize as your extricate your arm from his grip. “Mr. Kane wanted to talk to me about a quiz.

“What quiz?” he asks following you as you begin to head to your Calculus class.

“Reading quiz.” You answer non-committal.

“What about it?” Your mind is far away and his questions are more difficult to answer than they should be.

Is she angry at you?

“What about it?” he asks again.

“Just..that I can make it up.”

“Did you fail?”

“That’s my understanding.”

He pulls you back by your backpack and you stumble briefly before he steadies you and pulls the backpack off your shoulders and onto his. He flashes a smile before linking your arms and were you not otherwise distracted you would be worried by his behavior.

You could probably manage to catch her in detention.

“How?” he asks as you resume walking.

“What?”

He crinkles his nose and throws his arm around your shoulder. “You’re smart, Clarke, like scary smart.”

Oh.

The quiz.

“I just. Missed out on some reading. Thinking about my dad you know.”

It’s not a lie.

Entirely.

“Is that why you..you know?”

Fuck.

How do you answer that?

“I guess.”

What?

“Can we talk about this later?” You ask, because you’re standing outside Calculus right now and the warning bell will probab..

The warning bell rings.

“Yeah. My mom’s gone this weekend. Conference. Come over.”

“Okay.” You agree hastily and he pulls you into a deep kiss before handing you back your backpack.

Calculus is a blur but lunch is decidedly not.

Finn doesn’t have lunch period with you but Raven does and she’s anything but indirect. “Finn’s worried about you. He said you’re working through some stuff. Didn’t give me details.”

She looks miffed about it.

You can’t blame her.

They’ve been best friends since they were kids.

You fleetingly wonder if she would keep being friends with you if things ended badly with him.

Things ending?

What?

Why would that even cross your mind?

“Earth to Clarke.”

“Umm yeah..some stuff.”

“Hey.” Raven says softly hand on your arm, “You can always talk to me.”

You’re pretty sure talking to her about Lexa wouldn’t put her in the best mood but you nod to placate her.

“Raven, Clarke.” Octavia acknowledges as she sits down with a full tray.

“Blake.” Raven greets.

“Octavia.” You say.

Octavia’s not much for conversation during lunch.

She never really is.

Almost entirely consumed by the food on her plate, she wolfs it down and hums at parts of the conversation or maybe the lacrosse plays in her head, you’re not sure. But Raven more than makes up for her absence.

It’s not much of a conversation given that your thoughts are elsewhere but Raven doesn’t seem to be deterred. 

And suddenly in the middle of one of her rants on technological advancement and where ethics comes into play, she diverts, “Woods is fine. I would bang her in her Harvard dorm room all day.”

You feel that way too.

Wait what?

As a friend?

Friend bang her.

Like head banging to music as friends with her.

You shake your head out of your murky thoughts and look up to see Lexa.

She’s at table with a couple of other people you vaguely know but she’s engrossed in her book as they talk around her.

“Don’t say that.” You say as you watch her.

“What? Why? You think she’ll end up at Yale?”

You consider lecturing Raven on her objectification of Lexa but you realize that you spent more than enough time being creepy around her yourself before you kissed her and left her on a doorstep.

And not in a cute end of date kind of way.

Not that you would want to date her.

Unless it was a friend date.

“There’s Lincoln.” Octavia says before she stands up and walks towards their table.

You both gape after her.

“She didn’t finish her food.” Raven observes.

“No she did not.” You agree.

“Wow, Griff, that’s..that’s some true love shit right there.”

And as you watch Lincoln’s face light up as he greets her and you have to agree.

Lexa’s looking at you.

Fuck.

She looks back at her book.

You ache.

You’ll talk to her in detention.

You don’t talk to her in detention.

Finn walks you there and keeps you out of the class until Pike growls for you to get in.

Lexa doesn’t look at you once and she’s out of the door before you can process that detention is over.

When you leave, Finn is there. “Skipped out on practice early.” He says with a grin before he walks you out.

Lexa doesn’t look at you as you walk out to your car with him.

He kisses you before letting you get in your car and when you drive out, she’s no longer at the front of the school.

You feel guilty.

So guilty.

And Finn is driving you crazy with his possessiveness.

 

Friday is the same as Thursday and he walks you to every class.

You feel smothered.

But you went off and kissed another person.

This is decidedly your fault.

You want to skip forward.

Where you’ve had the full conversation with Finn and he’s over it.

Where you’ve had a conversation with Lexa and you’re back to normal.

Better than normal.

Friends.

Because she’s wonderful and interesting and smart and you want her around you so badly.

Because when you fast forward, you’ll be over this girl crush thing.

That’s what it is, right?

It doesn’t feel like the crush you had on Finn before you started dating him.

It doesn’t feel like the crush you had on Wells Jaha in the beginning of your freshman year.

It feels so much bigger.

Strong admiration.

That’s what it probably is.

A fast forward would fix that.

But your luck’s never been that great and you actually have to live out these moments.

Finn walks you everywhere.

Lexa doesn’t look at you.

Lexa doesn’t speak in class.

Kane sends worried looks to her.

But detention.

Detention is yours.

Finn walks you to it, of course, and you know he’ll be around after because he said as much.

Does he care about his football team?

Whatever.

You have all of detention.

Just you and her.

A half dozen other kids and Mr. Pike also.

No problem.

Well.

She won’t look anywhere close to you.

That’s a problem.

Mouthing to her probably wouldn’t have been effective anyway.

So you settle for a good old fashioned note.

**Can we talk?**

You fold it up and with a surreptitious glance at Mr. Pike you lean over and place it on her desk.

It sits there for long minutes and your cheeks are burning with fucking..

She opens it.

Her face is expressionless as she reads it.

You’re quite possibly dying of anxiety as she writes a response.

It’s back on your desk.

You open it.

**I don’t think so.**

You realize when it’s a struggle to breathe, that you didn’t prepare yourself for this possibility. You should have because you’re rapidly on the verge of a break down. You can’t figure out why it matters so much.

She won’t look at you.

Fuck.

**Please. Please. Just please. I need to talk to you. Only for a bit.**

You toss the piece of paper on her desk after you hastily scrawl on it without so much as a glance at Mr. Pike.

You’re lucky he doesn’t see it.

She opens it. Slowly like she did before and you can’t read her face.

What is she thinking?

She nods.

You hastily tear another piece of paper, afraid she’ll take it back.

**Girl’s bathroom. Please.**

You drop it on her desk as you walk up to Mr. Pike for permission.

He grumbles something about how you should have taken the time to go to the bathroom instead of dallying with your boyfriend but lets you go.

You hasten to the bathroom and rush to the sink.

You splash some water from the faucet onto your face and pray you look more composed than you are.

It feels like hours.

You hope it isn’t because that would mean Lexa decided not to meet you and you would earn yourself another visit to your mom.

How long has it been?

You left your phone in class.

Finn’s gonna be mad.

Your mom is gonna be mad when she realizes you came home so late.

Is it morning?

Are you going to spend your weekend in here?

There’s worse places you suppose.

The door opens and it’s her.

What’s she doing here on the weekend?

“Mr. Pike wasn’t too ecstatic about letting me out before you got back. We don’t have long.” She says as she walks up to the sinks and leans her hip slightly against them facing you.

What’s Mr. Pike doing here on the weekend?

Fuck.

Get it together Clarke.

You look at your wristwatch. It’s been 17 minutes since detention started.

Okay.

Alright.

“Hey.” You say.

She raises an eyebrow.

Okay.

New tactic.

“I told Finn.”

Wrong tactic.

She looks stunned before she schools her features. “Told him what?” She asks.

You direct your attention at your reflection but dip your eyes downwards when you can’t stand your own reflection. “That we..that we kissed. Yesterday.”

“You told him?” She asks in disbelief.

“Yeah. Well. I mean. I told him I kissed a girl. He didn’t ask who.”

She flinches and turns away from you to look at the stalls. “Guess it doesn’t much matter if it’s a girl.” She says bitterly.

And fuck.

You didn’t want her to take it that way. “No. No he cares. I just. We’re supposed to talk about it soon. For now we..we’re just focused on working on us..umm spending time together, fixing things..umm.” You finish.

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid it sounds.

“So why are you talking to me?”

You move closer to her despite the sting of her words. “I had to. I mean..I just had to.”

She puts her palms over her eyes and sighs, “What is you want, Clarke?”

“I want..Friends? Do you..I think we should be friends.”

She laughs and turns to you.

Your heart skips.

Because her eyes are so green and you want to..

You want to..

She steps back and turns, walking towards the door.

She stops at the door and turns to face you.

“Listen Clarke, no hard feelings. What’s done is done. We weren’t friends before and we don’t need to be just because you feel sorry for me.”

You shake your head furiously, “Lexa no. I don’t feel sorry for you.”

She sighs, “Clarke, please. For both of our sakes, just focus on fixing things with your boyfriend.”

And then she’s gone.

She slips out of the door and is gone.

It hurts.

But she’s right.

She’s right.

She has to be.

You hardly realize there are tears running down your cheeks until you taste them.

You wipe them away before you turn to assess your face.

It’ll do.

She’s right.

She’s right.

You hasten back to class and avoid Mr. Pike’s glare.

You don’t look at her the rest of detention and she doesn’t look at you.

But in your periphery, you can see her white-knuckled grip on her novel and the way her eyes don’t depart from its pages.

She’s gone as soon as the bell rings and when Finn walks you to your car, she isn’t at the front of the school.

But she’s right.

She’s right.

 

On Saturday, you make up an excuse about some errands your mom asked you to run.

You feel nervous about spending time with Finn in a way you hadn’t before.

But all you manage to do is postpone the inevitable.

 

On Sunday, you find yourself sitting on his bed.

“Lexa.” You say.

“Woods? The Lexa Woods?”

“Yeah.” You say.

“When?” “The day I came over. I came over right after. It was dumb. I don’t know.”

“You know, you should talk to someone about your dad.” And yeah, leading Finn to believe that your spiraling over your father’s death is what led you to kiss Lexa in a moment of crazy isn’t something you’re proud of.

Besides you didn’t tell him that outright.

He made an assumption.

And what could you have told him?

That an inexplicable draw to her has caused you to go crazy this past week and constantly think about her.

That all of your doodles rapidly devolve, or rather evolve, into sketches of her because even your muscle memory has been rewired to produce her features.

That the thrill you felt when you kissed her was the most exciting moment in your seventeen years.

Probably none of those.

You don’t even want to parse through those thoughts yourself.

Finn is kind.

Finn is sweet.

And Lexa’s right.

“I will.” You say. “I will. Thank you for being the best boyfriend ever.”

He grins, charming and boyish before he leans over to kiss you.

The kiss turns heated quickly and you find yourself below him as his hand pushes your shirt up.

This is about as far as you’ve gotten with him previously but he shows no signs of stopping.

It’s time, you figure.

You’ve been dating for around seven months and it makes sense.

You know he’s been eager but you haven’t been ready.

You’re ready now.

You have to be.

Clothes are discarded in a rush and he stops for a moment to reach over to his nightstand for a condom.

“Yeah?” He asks eagerly as he looks down at you.

“Yeah baby.” You say.

You close your eyes as he works it onto him and it’s too soon when you feel him hovering above you.

It’s painful.

His fumbling fingers don’t do much to prepare you.

It’s painful.

He asks if you’re okay numerous times and you nod.

And it gets less painful as you go on.

It doesn’t last too long and for that you’re grateful.

He rolls his heavy weight off you and you can finally breathe.

“Good?” he asks.

“Good baby.” You say before you kiss him.

You lay with him for a few hours trying to calm yourself down.

Is this the pinnacle of pleasure with him?

No.

You just need more time.

You weren’t ready but you will be next time.

You will be.

You leave when it starts to get dark and you ignore how sore you feel as you try to fall asleep in your own bed.

 

The Monday sun is bright and cheery and you wonder how it can be when you feel so..shit.

Despite the warm weather, you tighten your letterman jacket around yourself and try to make yourself small.

You feel different.

But definitely not good different.

You look around, paranoid at everyone that passes you in the hallway.

Do they know?

Can they tell from your face?

From Finn’s face.

Finn laughs loudly, arm around you, at whatever Bellamy says as you all stand around before morning classes start.

He’s cheery as he walks you to class and his kiss is longer and deeper than usual. “See you princess.” He says with a wink as the warning bell rings.

The rest of your day is not much better.

Classes are long.

Breathing is getting more and more difficult as the day progresses.

English is excruciating.

Lexa doesn’t speak and the class is as lost as it was at the end of last week.

“Reading quiz tomorrow.” Mr. Kane says as you all pack up. It’ll be a tough one guys. You gotta keep up with the reading.”

Lexa’s gone before the last words are even out of Mr. Kane’s mouth and you can’t help but rush after her.

For what?

You don’t know.

You’re out of breath by the time you get to the door and you’re met at the door with a kiss from Finn. “Hey babe. Missed ya.”

You can’t say the same.

Breathing gets immensely harder in Calculus.

Your head is spinning and you can’t quite catch a breath.

You get close but you can’t.

The bell rings and Finn walks you to lunch before leaving for his class.

You dash to the bathroom when he’s out of sight and try to get your breathing out of control.

You can’t.

Fuck.

Lunch.

You need lunch.

You stumble into the hallway and try to lean against the lockers as you make your way to the cafeteria.

Your vision is black around the edges but it’ll be better with food.

The greasiest pizza the cafeteria has to offer will do it, you’re sure.

You slip and suddenly arms are around you.

“Clarke.”

You’re so dizzy.

You’re heaving with exertion but suddenly you aren’t in the hallway anymore.

You feel yourself being gently lowered to the floor.

Empty classroom.

There’s a face in front of yours.

You can’t breathe.

“Clarke.”

Lexa?

You must be hallucinating.

“Stay with me Clarke come on.”

You feel her hands on your cheek. “Where are we Clarke? Can you tell me?”

“Class..classroom.” You manage.

“That’s right Clarke, we’re in a classroom. What classroom Clarke? Can you tell me that?”

You shake your head and struggle to let in a breath.

“There’s a poster over there. Do you see it?”

You turn your head.

You do see it.

It’s a ridiculous poster of a goofy looking dog with a thought bubble in German.

Oh.

“German class..Ger..German class.”

“I was thinking more of devil language but German is right too.”

You choke out a wet laugh.

You didn’t realize you were crying.

“You..you didn’t like German?”

Lexa chuckles, “German didn’t like me.”

You grin weakly.

You’re tired.

So tired.

You lean forward against her and she holds you and tuts soothingly.

“You are having a panic attack.” She says gently.

Oh.

You haven’t had one of those in a while.

Despite your exhaustion and fear, it feels good to put a name to it.

You burrow your face in her neck and breathe her in more slowly.

“I slept with him. I slept with Finn.”

And honestly when did you start telling everyone the damn truth.

She stiffens.

You rush to explain yourself.

“I didn’t…I didn’t want to.”

She pulls back immediately and you feel cold and exposed.

“Clarke.” She says seriously forcing you to meet her eyes as she thumbs your cheeks. “Did he..did he force..”

“No no no.” You protest.

Breathing is hard again suddenly.

“Clarke, Clarke hey hey hey. Look at me.”

You do and you can’t bear it.

She’s beautiful.

“He..he was fine. He was good. I just..I wasn’t..I wasn’t ready. I told him I was but I..I wasn’t.”

Her response in instantaneous.

“Oh Clarke.”

She pulls you in and holds you reassuringly as you sob.

She rocks you gently and hums and you feel yourself calming.

In the minutes after your sobbing subsides, you wonder how much time has passed.

But another question eats at your mind and you can’t help but ask.

“Did you..have you ever?” You ask.

She doesn’t cease in her rocking but she takes a while before she responds. “Once.” She says. “Before she..before Costia left.”

“Was it? Was it?” And for some reason you can’t bring yourself to finish your question.

She answers regardless. “It was special.”

You tighten your grip on her shirt and find yourself infinitely happy that she got to have something so special.

When you finally manage to pull yourself away from her, you rise with shaky feet and check your phone.

Fuck.

It’s halfway through your Physics class and halfway through whatever class she has this period.

“Econ.” She says. “It’s all right. Teacher loves me, I’ll explain the situation.”

You shake your head not knowing what to say.

“I can take you to the nurse and talk to her.” She offfers. You want to say no but you know you’ll both need excuse slips to make your lives easier as much as she trusts her ability to talk her way out of trouble.

She’s with you every step of the way and you feel her calming presence wash over you.

The visit to the nurse is quick.

For Lexa at least.

The nurse ushers Lexa out with a slip and she pauses at the door for you to nod before she leaves.

You sit on the bed nursing a bottle of water until the nurse gives you a once over when the bell rings and lets you go.

“Hey. Found you.” Finn says as he almost barrels into you. “Where were you for lunch? Raven says you didn’t show.”

You gesture at the nurse’s office behind you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, eyes wide and worried.

“Nausea. You know. That time of the month.” You lie, because your confession in the classroom scared you and you don’t know what to do about it.

That’s fine.

You’ll figure it out.

You’ll figure it out.

“Yeah okay princess. How are you feeling now?”

You catch sight of Lexa watching from across the hall.

“Better.” You say as you send her a smile.

She smiles back before she turns and walks in the other direction.

“That’s my princess.” Finn whispers as he kisses the side of your head.

Detention is fucking boring without Lexa.

Yeah she never looked at you but still.

Fuck.

The fact that you’re still feeling weak and tired from your attack earlier certainly doesn’t help either.

She’s not in front of the school afterwards.

Of course she’s not.

You’d convinced Finn to stay at practice and you had an inane hope that she’d be there despite her lack of detention.

Oh well.

You can’t afford to mess up your grades if you want to keep up your gpa so you do your reading that night before turning in earlier than usual from sheer exhaustion.

 

Tuesday is a miraculous beautiful wonderful day.

It starts the same as usual, sure.

But Lexa sends you a soft smile as you walk into class.

And then.

She talks.

In class.

Mr. Kane looks like he’s witnessing the second coming.

Your disinterested classmates snap to life and the class is once more a discussion class.

There’s a wonderful energy in class and Mr. Kane is so high on it he forgets to give the quiz.

You see Jasper high five Lexa on his way out and you laugh.

Finn meets you outside and he hugs you absentmindedly as he watches Lexa walk down the hallway.

You pull his shirt and direct him the other way and he shakes himself into reality, placing his heavy arm over your shoulders as you walk to your next class.

“Feeling better?” Raven asks as she watches you eat at lunch.

“Much.” You say and it’s not a lie.

“You been taking care of yourself?” Octavia asks, “Eating, sleeping, exercising?”

Yikes.

You can’t remember the last time you ever exercised.

Your answer it seems isn’t necessary as she gets up and abandons the last of her food to go sit with Lincoln.

“True fuckin’ love, folks. True love.” Raven grumbles.

Lexa smiles at you and you smile back, heart thumping away.

In a friend way.

 

On Wednesday, Mr. Kane gives an easier version of the quiz he planned to give on Tuesday. Every answer is simple for you and you turn it in confident in your perfect score.

Lexa stays behind to speak to Mr. Kane and she watches you as you walk out.

Finn meets you with a kiss and when you tell him about your quiz his smile at you is dazzling.

“Hey, Lexa.” He calls suddenly as he places a heavy arm on your shoulder.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You watch as she turns around in the hallway cautiously.

“Yes?”

“Come here a sec.”

No no.

“Finn, let’s go.” You plead.

“I have class.” She answers.

“Just a sec.”

“Finn, please.” You beg.

You desperately want his arm off your shoulder.

Lexa takes a breath and straightens her posture before she walks over, face unreadable.

“This is my girlfriend.” You struggle to get out of his grip.

“Finn, leave it.”

“Clarke, I just want to make sure she knows.”

“Finn.”

“I know.” Lexa’s clipped voice cuts through your protests. “Is that all?”

“That’s all.” He says.

She nods and walks off and you’re left staring after her before Finn maneuvers you in the other direction.

“Finn. What the fuck?”

“You’re mine princess. She needed to know..”

You almost shudder in disgust.

You remember how Lexa had called Costia hers, voice soft and reverent.

But Finn.

You don’t like the way he said it.

Sure you want to be his..don't you?

Fuck.

“We need to talk Finn.”

“Whatever you want, princess.”

You pull him into the boys bathroom and startle all of the boys in it.

“Can we have a sec?” You ask and they nod like they’ve never seen a girl and scurry off in shock.

“Finn..”

And what do you actually want to tell him?

You feel so conflicted.

You should like the way he slings his arm around you.

Shouldn’t you?

You should like the way he called you his.

I mean other than his tone.

You should have liked what happened on Sunday.

But you can’t even bring yourself to think of it as anything other than what happened on Sunday.

Something’s wrong with you.

Or him.

Or both of you.

Okay.

Time for a game plan.

You don’t know what to say.

All you know is that Lexa gave you air on Monday and she deserves the world.

And you can’t believe that Finn spoke to her the way he did.

“Do you like her?” Finn asks.

Fuck.

“Umm yeah?” You look at a nearby urinal in favour of meeting his eyes. “She’s gonna be valedictorian. She’s cool.” You force out.

“You kissed her because she’s top of the class?”

Well shit.

“No.”

“So why did you kiss her?”

“I told you.”

“No you didn’t. You just hinted that you’ve been upset about your dad. But you didn’t say why exactly you kissed her. There has to be more of a reason. Why did you kiss her Clarke?”

He’s right in front you now and you can’t make yourself look at him.

You can’t answer him.

You can’t answer yourself.  

“Finn, I don’t like how you’ve been acting the past couple of days.” You say instead.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Of course I know. I’ve come on strong. I just..I just can’t help but think you don’t want me.”

He sounds so hurt.

What do you say?

What do you say?

“I’m trying but it feels like I’ve already lost.”

“Don’t say that.” You manage.

“I’m sorry about Sunday.” He says.

What?

“I thought..I thought but you were so unhappy after.” He adds with a shake of his head.

“I wasn’t unhappy.”

“Clarke, you hardly said a word after and all this week you can’t even look at me.”

“I can look at you.”

“You’re not even looking at me now!”

He’s right.

He’s right.

And you don’t know what to do.

“Can we talk after your practice?” You beg.

That’s right, leave it to future Clarke to handle.

He sighs, long and hard before he nods.

“I’ll meet you out front.” he says.

He walks past you and pauses at the door before turning to you, “I love you Clarke. And I don’t know where your head’s at but I want us to work this out.”

And fuck.

It would all be so much easier if he was a villain in all this.

As it is, you don’t know where your head is either.

He leaves when he doesn’t get a response from you and you wonder if you’re the villain.

Finn isn’t outside Calculus when you walk out and it feels..

Well, it feels like you can breathe again.

The respite is momentary and ended altogether by the realization that Raven will be at lunch and you have no inclination to face her.

You spend a lonely hungry lunch in a bathroom stall on your phone browsing through Wikipedia articles on insects.

You try and you fail to come up with a solution to your dilemma.

What do you want with Finn?

What are you going to say after school?

Your mind which has been lauded by teachers and fellow students is useless in finding answers to these questions.

You just don’t know what to do.

You don’t see Finn at all until after detention.

You wait by the front doors of the school for his practice to let out.

You’re back on Wikipedia.

There’s so many different kinds of beetles.

You hear him before you see him.

When you look up, he’s coming to a stop from running up to you.

He’s still in his practice gear minus the pads and he has a sheen of sweat all over him.

He pauses for a minute to catch a breath before he sits on the concrete bench beside you.

You shake your head clear of its swirling thoughts about dung beetles and focus it on him.

He’s handsome.

It’s impossible to deny.

He’s handsome, charming, funny and smart.

A catch really to anyone who’s looking and you can’t figure out why that isn’t you.

It’s easy to attribute your feelings to these past weeks.

And admittedly they’ve been an..interesting past couple of weeks.

But you can’t help but think back to when he first asked you out.

You’d noticed him before that of course, not blind to the whispers of your classmates who swooned over him.

But you’d run in different crowds until Wells’ first and only house party where you’d had your first conversation.

Weeks of relentless flirting gave way to the day he asked you out before classes, bouquet of flowers in hand with a hallway’s worth of high schoolers watching.

You remember thinking it was cheesy but cute.

But most importantly, you remember how everybody couldn’t stop talking about it.

You wondered at the time why everyone was more excited than you.

Finn was and is nice, sweet, kind, and considerate.

But you think now that it might not be enough.

That the words you use to describe him and the way you think of him is not so different from how you think of Mr. Wallace, the librarian, and you have no desire to date him.

You think it should be more.

And you realize as you watch him fidget with the strap on his backpack, that you’re willing to take the risk even if you’re wrong.

Whoa.

Objectively you know in the grand scheme of things that he’s your high school boyfriend and everyone says high school boyfriends don’t last.

Objectively you know that it’s not the end of the world.

But it feels like a pretty big deal.

“Finn, I think we should break up.” And the words are monumental and suffocating all of a sudden and you struggle to catch a breath in their wake.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet and it’s almost unbearable.

When he turns to face you, his eyes are wet and you almost want to take it back. “What can I do?” He asks.

And you want to smash your head against the bench because he’s blaming himself and he shouldn’t.

You pull him into a hug and realize you’re crying as well as you hold him.

You pull away after a moment and try to gather your thoughts.

“I’m trying. I..I tried” He lets out.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry Finn.”

And really you are.

He deserves better in a girlfriend than you.

You’re not sure that you’re making the right decision and the thought of walking through the hallways with the rumours that will follow you is terrifying but there’s a tiny feeling in your gut that’s telling you this is for the best.

He stands up abruptly and you stand as well.

He hesitates before he pulls you in lightly and kisses the side of your head, “See you around, Princess.” He says and then he’s gone.

You’re still crying.

You hate to cause anyone pain.

You’re still confused about so many things.

But you feel unburdened.

And it’s everything right now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lexa..” You say softly.
> 
> She turns around to you and she looks so conflicted. “Clarke, what do you want?”
> 
> And oh if you knew the answer to that you wouldn’t be floundering around hurting people’s feelings.
> 
> “Let me give you a ride.” You say.
> 
> That you can manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. Travelling like mad for work. Which is amazing and awesome. But makes for unpredictability and unreliability and those are traits I already had as a writer. I love your comments. I love your kudos. I love your love. I love that we're all still here.

Thursday is weird.

It’s weird in the way that all days after sleepless nights are.

Hazy and unreal.

But also ten million times worse.

Because your damn Volvo which was just in the shop the other week refused to start and you had to take an uber to school because your mom had already left at the crack of dawn.

Because you would have normally called Raven for a ride but you think she’d be more inclined to run over you with her Camaro slowly and repetitively until you become one with the concrete below you.

Because you broke up with Finn yesterday.

And oh yeah.

The entire school is staring at you.

Okay maybe you’re being dramatic. 

You haven’t even walked in the damn building yet but there’s a couple of whispers being directed your way.

Do they know yet?

The school’s rumour mill is incredible.

You think that they could do major sociological and anthropological studies on it.

You want nothing more than to dive back into the uber and resume your chat with the friendly driver about Algerian politics.

He honks twice and calls out goodbye before speeding off and you quickly decide that he is the devil.

Because now everyone outside the school is staring.

Okay.

Breathe, Clarke.

You walk past the staring students and through the double doors.

There’s open mouthed gaping now and pointing.

Where did good old fashioned manners go?

It seems a tad bit excessive even for this school.

There’s giggling and you hear your name several different times as you walk. Is this about Finn?

This overt?

This soon?

Maybe you just have something on your face.

Before you have time to open your front facing camera on your phone, you catch sight of Raven and Bellamy speaking in hushed whispers.

You stop in your tracks before deciding that this is ridiculous.

You can be mature.

They can too.

Just because..

You run.

Not very fast, admittedly, but you run in the opposite direction.

And if anyone wasn’t looking, they sure are now.

And now you’re sure it’s about Finn.

Because you hear his name and yours over and over as you run through the halls.

You have no idea where to go.

Where you won’t find more and more students.

Talking and talking.

But the bell mercifully rings and you’re close enough to your class that you dart straight there, successfully avoiding any of your friends.

There are whispers in class too but they’re mostly kept to a minimum by the teacher.

You try to pretend that you don’t see the stares and the notes being passed around.

It’ll pass, you know it will.

The next piece of gossip will come around and the school will collectively put its hive mind to the excitement that comes with it.

But it still feels..

Shit.

That’s what it feels like.

You think you made the right decision but all the commotion about it is making you wonder why you bothered.

It would have been easier to stay with him, wouldn’t it?

You take creative routes to your next classes to avoid Raven and you think that at the very least Octavia would be pleased by how much exercise your extra walking is giving you.

English class arrives as it always does and your worries about everyone’s talking are replaced by worries about Lexa.

You arrive first to English like you have to every class today and you have nothing to do but obsess.

You cringe when you think about how Finn spoke to her.

Will she ever talk to you again?

You’ve been nothing but an inconvenience to her.

You wouldn’t blame her if she never looked at you again.

Except.

She’s looking at you now from the doorway.

“Lexa I..”

She looks around warily before she shakes her head sharply. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. I just want to focus on school.” She says briskly before she sits down and begins to rummage through her bag.

You’re stunned.

You feel like someone knocked the wind out of you.

Trouble?

Lexa?

She would never.

“Lexa..” You call and her shoulders tense so high as if she’s preparing for a blow and you’ve never hated yourself more.

The voices of your classmates filter through loudly and then hush when they catch sight of you.

Whatever.

You can’t bring yourself to care.

Not when you’ve messed everything up with her.

Not that there was anything to mess up.

Was there?

The class murmuring intensifies and when you look up, you see Mr. Vie.

You’ve had him sub many of your classes in the last 3 years and change. He’s one of the nicer substitute teachers and the class splits off automatically into groups, knowing how he allows classes to compete their assigned work together.

You drift off as he explains the directions to completing the worksheet and your eyes never stray far from her.

In another world you’d be sitting in the group to your left next to Zoe.

She wouldn’t be talking about you like you see her doing now out of the corner of your eye.

She’d be talking to about some other student unlucky enough to earn the attention of the whole school.

But while it’s breaking up with Finn that has caused the whispers.

It isn’t breaking up with Finn that’s caused the distance.

You know you could drag your desk over to them and join their group.

You know they’d be quiet and awkward about it until you explained that you just needed something new.

Just needed to focus on school.

Just didn’t feel like it was working out between you.

Anything, really.

Because they’re your kind of sort of friends.

You would normally care.

But you can’t help but think they don’t matter.

You can’t help but think about how you’ll drift apart when you’re in college.

Less texts.

Less invites.

Less likes on Facebook.

And then maybe you’ll see one of them, years from now, at a grocery store and laugh about a meaningless anecdote from sophomore year.

And you’ll go your separate ways.

But.

It mattered.

Just a few weeks ago.

It mattered.

The Saturday after the last day of Junior year, you helped Myles babysit his 2 year old cousin.

Just three weeks ago when you got back from Alaska, you and Zoe got tapioca at the new place that opened up in her neighbourhood.

It mattered then.

But it doesn’t now.

And you wonder how much change someone can go through in a couple of weeks.

You ignore that the only other person not in a group is Lexa.

And you ignore why that’s what matters to you.

The rest of the day is much of the same.

Your step count is going to be far above your average and you’re pretty excited about that underneath the crushing fear and confusion you’re feeling.

You skip lunch again in lieu of another Wikipedia session.

This time it’s deep sea creatures and holy wow maybe you should skip lunch all the time and read more about this stuff.

Your stomach grumbles pitifully.

Okay maybe not all the lunches.

You’re feeling pretty positive about this absolutely miserable day until you get to detention later and run right into Raven outside the door.

“Umm hi.” You say.

She’s glaring at you and you’re terrified.

You forgot how scary it was to have her ire directed at you.

You remember the last time.

Finn had asked you out for the first time in a grand gesture and you’d gone on your first date to the movies with him that Saturday.

The following Monday brought a menacing looking Raven to your locker.

She’d threatened you with all manner of deaths, from fiery explosions to poisonous gas and at the end of it all you’d made a promise.

A promise not to hurt him.

A promise that you broke yesterday.

Oh well.

You hadn’t expected to live forever.

You had a good life right?

Did some good things?

Got a good score on your PSAT.

Rode a horse once in the fourth grade.

Helped an elderly gentleman across the street one Tuesday last summer before they installed the traffic light in your grandparent’s sleepy Alaskan town.

“Why?” She asks.

And you’re stunned.

But you realize as you look at her hurt face that this must not be fun for her either.

While Finn and her are undoubtedly best friends, you and her have gotten pretty close in the last several months.

And she’s loyal.

So very loyal.

And you’re sorry.

So very sorry.

“It just..it just wasn’t right.” You flounder.

“You mean to tell me that you just suddenly realized that it..” She raises her hands in mocking quotes, “Wasn’t right?”

“Yes and no.”

“Not good enough, Clarke.”

And you know it’s not but it’s what you have so you try your best to elaborate. “I think, I always kind of knew. My heart wasn’t into it the way it should have been but I felt..I felt like it should have been right.”

“Not good enough, Clarke.” She repeats as she shakes her head. “Do you know how I found out?”

You shake your head.

“Instagram.” She says.

What?

“You’re the only damn person who doesn’t have an account in this school.” She spits bitterly.

And you’re so confused.

So very confused.

She pulls out her phone and taps her way to Finn’s Instagram and you see yourself in a couple of pictures before you see her click on the most recent.

It’s a quote with some broken hearts lined up on the left side of it.

‘Nothing hurts more than realizing she meant everything to you and you meant nothing to her.’

You almost laugh.

Not out of cruelty.

You know you hurt Finn.

But it just seems so dramatic and trivial at the same time. 

But you remember that she’s standing in front of you and perhaps self-preservation should be your main goal.

So you don’t laugh.

At least you know how the news spread so fast.

“I kept calling and calling and he wouldn’t answer. So I went over. He was a mess, Clarke.”

You shake your head, unsure of what to say.

You wonder off-handedly what his mother thinks of you now.

It doesn’t matter, you suppose.

“I don’t know what to say Raven.”

She shakes her head in disappointment, “Not good enough, Clarke.”

And then she’s gone.

And you’re alone in the hallway.

And you feel even worse.

You trudge into the room and serve out your detention while hating yourself and staring blankly at your Calculus homework.

When you’re relieved from the classroom you stretch in relief and let yourself imagine that next week will be better.

Tomorrow will suck still.

But the weekend should be enough to turn everyone’s attention to something else, right?

You don’t get to answer your own question.

Because.

She’s there.

Lexa's there.

In front of the school.

The sun hits her face just so and you’re breathless.

You have to talk to her.

You do your best to walk slowly so as not to startle her but it’s hardly a second before you’re beside her.

“Hey can we talk?” You ask breathlessly.

She turns to you stunned.

Scared?

She settles on resolved.

“Clarke, please. I get it. I do. Just please..” She pleads.

You shake your head.

You hate to cause her this distress. “Please what? What do you get?” You beg.

“Your..your boyfriend. He was right.”

You step closer. “No he wasn’t, Lexa. He had no right to talk to you that way. No right.”

She flinches away. “Regardless. He was right. You should..you should be with him right now.”

“No. I don’t want to be with him I want..”

What do you want?

You heart is pounding and your cheeks are flushed and you feel like you should know the answer.

She turns away and begins to walk off.

“Where are you going? Lexa.”

You follow at a distance.

You want to give her space.

You want to..

You want to..

“Lexa please.”

She stops in her tracks. “Home. I’m going home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t walk that far!”

You hear her breath in a ragged breath and see her look up.

Her back is to you and you want nothing more than to see her face.

“I broke up with him.”

She tenses.

“Finn. I broke up with him.”

And suddenly it feels like you just got hit with it.

Hard.

You broke up with him.

You almost can’t believe it.

You try to shake your head clear of it but there’s a churn of guilt in your stomach that won’t go away.

You walk up to her.

She’s still standing still.

“Lexa..” You say softly.

She turns around to you and she looks so conflicted. “Clarke, what do you want?”

And oh if you knew the answer to that you wouldn’t be floundering around hurting people’s feelings.

“Let me give you a ride.” You say.

That you can manage.

“They’ll be back from her session..”

“How soon?” She looks down.

“Let me give you a ride. Please.”

She nods.

It’s the tiniest nod and it makes your heart overflow.

You walk towards your car, leading the way and hoping she’ll follow.

After a hesitation, you hear her footsteps.

You walk to your car and oh wait..

You turn around because your Volvo is not in your favourite spot.

Your favourite spot is empty.

Your Volvo is in your driveway because it wouldn't fucking start this morning.

“Umm.” You say.

She adjusts her backpack and looks unsurely past you.

“I took an uber to school.”

She frowns confusedly, "You took..”

“An uber to school. Yup.”

“Okay.” She says hesitantly.

“I can’t give you a ride because..” You try to clarify.

“You took an uber to school.” She finishes, stoic.

And at this point you’re impatiently wondering what the chasm that should swallow you in the ground is taking so long for.

The silence hangs between you for long seconds and you can’t quite meet her eyes in embarrassment.

“I guess I’ll wait for my parents then.”

“Okay.” You manage.

She starts to walk back to the front of the school and gets a few steps away before she stops.

She turns to look at you. “Do you..do you need a ride?” She asks abruptly.

You start to say no but then you think of how much you’ve spent on your car and how much you’re likely to spend now on whatever’s wrong with it this time.

You don’t really have much to spare for an uber.

You grimace.

“Please.” You say.

She nods and resumes walking to the front.

She heads to the first concrete bench on the right and you follow because sitting anywhere else would be weird.

And you want..well you want to be near her.

To talk that is.

You sit a foot away from her on the bench and you both stare longingly at the road in front of the school.

The silence eats at you but you don’t know what to say.

You don’t know what you want.

But you know you don’t want to push her.

It must be at least half an hour before she finally speaks up.

“Are you okay?” She asks without looking at you.

It shocks you.

But of course she would be concerned about you.

She’s..well she’s certainly not like you.

She’s selfless and caring and..

“Clarke?”

“Yeah..I..I think so. I’m not..I’m not sure.”

She turns and meets your eyes and oh.

You’re so very very full of feeling.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You’re not sure you do.

But she’s looking at you and her eyes are so so green and so so open.

“I..he just wasn’t right..for me. I don’t think ever he was.”

She nods, “That’s understandable.”

Is it?

“Is it? Because I hurt him Lexa. I..I was selfish and it feels like the right thing but it also feels like the wrong thing and Raven said..”

“Clarke if he wasn’t right for you or you didn’t feel right with him then you made the right choice..”

“But I hurt him..”

“Relationships are..weird. People get hurt sometimes but you shouldn’t stay in one if it makes you unhappy.”

Shouldn’t I?

You shake your head.

“Raven said it isn’t good enough.”

“What isn’t?”

You sigh, “Me saying it isn’t right. Why I broke up with him.”

Are you making sense?

You don’t think so.

“And who is Raven in this situation?”

“Finn’s best friend. My friend. She..”

“But she’s not you?”

“Well I mean, no. Of course not but..”

“Clarke.” She says.

Soft.

Quiet.

You meet her eyes.

“Your feelings are valid.”

You start to shake your head but she ducks her head and meets your eyes again.

“Your feelings are valid, Clarke.”

She’s more firm with her words this time and you want to..

You want to..

A car pulls up.

“That’ll be them.” Lexa says and she stands and holds out a hesitant hand to you.

You take it and it’s warm and it’s soft and the tingle running through your hand is probably just static.

But your heart is now beating wildly and she looks at you and you look at her and..

“We should..”

“Right.” You say.

She lets go of your hand and it feels strange as you use it to grab your backpack of the bench and follow her.

“Mom, Dad this is Clarke. Can we give her a ride?” You peer into the vehicle and wave awkwardly.

Lexa’s parents are terrifying.

Her mother sits in the driver’s seat with close cropped hair and a stern look.

Her father just looks curious as he sits in the passenger seat but he’s huge and you can’t see how far his beard extends.

“We can.” Lexa’s mom says.

You gulp.

You’ve never heard a less welcoming affirmative in your life.

Lexa turns to you and gestures for you to put your backpack in the trunk.

You do so and follow as she opens the back door and leans in.

“Tris.” You hear her say.

You look in curiously.

There’s a young girl in there.

She can’t be much older than ten.

Quiet and entirely focused on her handheld video game.

“Tris.” Lexa says again patiently.

You watch as the girl slowly gives Lexa her attention.

“This is Clarke.” She says gesturing at you. “She’ll be riding with us for a little bit.”

You wave but the girl seems to look through you before she looks back down at her video game.

Lexa straightens and looks at you, “She’s..”

“Cool.” You say instinctively.

“Yeah..” Lexa responds trailing off. “Come on.”

You follow after and buckle up, entirely aware of Lexa’s mother’s eyes on you.

“Where do you live Clarke?” Her father asks.

And as you give the address, he types it into the gps mounted to the window.

You take stock of your surroundings when the car starts moving.

You’re lying.

From the moment you entered the vehicle, you knew how small it was.

You can feel every breath Lexa takes because her arm is lightly touching yours.

You can feel her warmth and you can smell her..

“So Clarke are you also in Student Government?” her father asks.

“Umm no.” You manage unimpressively.

“What kept you after school then?” Her mother cuts in.

Crap.

Well.

“Detention.” You answer.

The car is silent for long seconds.

“Did you also call the Murphy boy a narcissist toothpick?” Her father asks with a grin you can see in the side mirror.

“Dad!” Lexa protests, “I didn’t even say that..exactly.”

“I was paraphrasing.” He quips back. “So Clarke?”

“No I didn’t, sir. I think I’m a little less..brazen than that.”

“Clarke!” Lexa turns and she looks so betrayed.

And your heart is full because she’s so very beautiful in her faux indignation.

And Lexa’s dad is a laughing a full wide laugh and it feels like family.

“So what exactly did you do?” Lexa’s mom asks, unamused.

Yikes.

Well.

A disapproving mother feels like family too.

“Mom.” Lexa protests.

“Just trying to get to know your…friend.”

Double yikes.

“Mom..”

“It’s okay Lexa, I uh. I talked back to a teacher in class. I wasn’t having a great day but it was rude and I apologized for it.” You manage.

Lexa’s mom hums noncommittally and you wish you could put your head right through the car window.

Never mind.

Lexa’s mom probably wouldn’t be too happy about that.

Instead you settle for staring out the window and wishing you were far away.

You feel Lexa’s arm move and her right hand trails from where it was in her lap.

And it’s on the seat now.

Your left hand is on the seat.

You turn your head in an effort to see her face in your periphery but she’s staring out of the window her sister is sitting by.

She probably doesn’t realize she’s doing it.

Except.

Her hand twitches.

And it’s closer.

It’s so close you could probably move your finger an inch and you’d be..

“We’re here.” Lexa’s mom announces.

Damn everyone’s timing.

Damn everyone.

You let out a surprised cough and hurriedly open the door.

You rush to the trunk and grab your bag swinging it into your shoulder.

Lexa’s in front of you.

“Sorry about her..she’s just..protective is all.”

What?

Oh.

You’d completely forgotten.

“No problem.” You say.

She nods and steps back.

“Thank you err..” You shoot a glance at Lexa. “Mrs. Woods, Mr. Woods.” Lexa nods in confirmation.

“No problem.” Lexa’s dad says.

Lexa’s mom is quiet.

Oh well you can’t win them all.

Not that you want to win her mother over for any particular reason.

Well, you want to be Lexa’s friend.

And maybe hold her hand.

Lexa’s mother clears her throat.

You have a headache.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You say to Lexa.

“Tomorrow.” She repeats.

And it sounds like a promise.

You watch them drive off as you stand by the door and then enter already dreading the conversation with your mom.

“How did you get home?” She asks from the kitchen and you walk in to find her studying the calendar magnet on the fridge.

“Lexa’s parents.”

“Lexa Woods?” She asks, eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

She hums. “Good kid. Her sister Anya though..”

You remember Anya.

She was a senior when you were a freshman.

Smart, good at sports but always in trouble.

You think you heard a rumour about her going into the marine corps.

“Okay.” You say and you make a beeline for your room.

“You didn’t take your car to school.”

“It wouldn’t start.”

“You should get rid of it. It costs you more to keep it running than if you bought a new one.”

“Yeah well it’s my money.”

“Your money wasted.”

“Are you going to call a tow?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you call one this morning.”

“I would have been late waiting.”

“You should leave earlier for school.”

You sigh and don’t respond.

And when she says nothing for the next few seconds you make your way to your room.

You set your bag and flop on your bed and try to wrangle your thoughts.

You generally try to work during your summers with your dad’s family so you don’t have to worry about working in the fall.

But given how much you spent on the clutch replacement and how much you’re likely to spend now..

You groan.

You hate that your mother is right about the car and you hate that she ignores why you’re stubborn about it.

Well.

No need to panic.

Yet.

You’ll wait till they see what’s wrong and go from there.

You call your go to shop and Jerry who’s your favourite - and how sad you have a favourite - tells you he’ll be there in an hour.

An hour is too much time because you’re thinking about school and the whispers and Finn and Raven and well..mostly.

Lexa.

You’re thinking about how she told you your feelings were valid.

You’re confused about it.

But maybe she’s right.

You do feel better for breaking up with Finn.

And maybe you’ll have more time now.

For friendships. Like with Lexa.

You think about the car ride.

Did she?

No.

No way she did..right?

You’re not sure if it’s the longest hour long wait or the shortest.

But when Jerry arrives to tow and leaves with your Volvo and a cheery, “We’ll dig into and call ya!” you’re none the wiser.

 

 

Friday comes early and you groan at your alarm.

But you set it so you could leave early with your mom and you can’t complain.

You roll out of bed, shower at lightning speed and join her in the kitchen.

A silent bagel, glass of orange juice, and car ride later finds you at school.

No students are here yet and as your mother heads to her office without a word, you revel in the peace and quiet of the school.

It doesn’t last long.

If anything, the whispers and the staring are even worse today.

You keep your head down and cringe every time you hear your name.

Are they even trying to be discreet about the fact that they’re talking about you?

It seems like the first bell is so far away as you stand by the giant tiger mascot that’s guarding the door.

You hate this morning aimless milling around until the first class.

You ignore the fact that you used to like it.

You’d stand around in your friend group joking around with Finn’s arm around you and it felt nice.

And now your friends..well.

But.

Despite all this.

You’re in a good mood.

Because Lexa said tomorrow.

And that’s today.

And you can’t wait.

Your eagerness and your desire to get away from the whispers make for the longest wait but when the bell finally rings you sigh in relief and rush to your first class.

The class taunts you with its slowness and you actually find yourself counting the minutes.

The ceiling tiles.

The number of times someone whispers your name.

The bells rings.

One class down.

One to go.

Art History is boring.

Why do you even like art?

Why did you take this class when times passes seven and four ninths times slower than it should.

You quite possibly think you’re going to rot in your seat.

The bell rings.

Mercy.

It’s time.

You’re seated in your seat in English with your novel out not thirty seconds after the bell rings.

And.

And.

And.

There she is.

Wow is she perfect.

For a potential friend.

You stand.

She stills at the door.

“Hi.” You say.

“Hi.” She responds shyly.

God.

You love her smile.

You want to..

You want to..

“Are you okay?”

You shake your head clear.

“I’m great.” You say.

Because in this moment you are.

“I’ve been..” She trails off into a frown. “I’ve been hearing some things.”

“Whoa there!” Mr. Kane says as he just manages to turn so he doesn’t run into Lexa.

“Phew.” He says as he wipes his brow exaggeratedly. “That could have been a real disaster.”

You’re looking at Lexa.

She’s looking at you.

She frowns and bites her lip before turning to Mr. Kane. “Are you feeling better, sir?”

“Much. Still under the weather but it won’t stop us from diving right back in!” He declares enthusiastically.

She’s looking at you.

You’re looking at her.

Mr. Kane is looking at both of you.

He clears his throat and you snap back into yourself.

You sit down and watch in the corner of your eye as she approaches her desk and does the same.

You open up your book to the assigned chapter and ignore the whispers of your name as the rest of the class filters in.

Except you don’t.

Because Lexa.

Because Lexa just said she’d been hearing things.

You can’t ignore the whispers.

You barely hear Kane start the discussion.

Barely hear anyone’s contributions.

Clarke.

Finn.

Clarke.

Finn.

Clarke.

“It exactly mirrors what happens earlier when Mary discovers that the elders have been lying the whole time.”

God.

You love her voice.

The class is murmuring and murmuring and it’s driving you crazy because all you want to hear is her voice.

You raise your hand.

“Yes Clarke.” Mr. Kane says.

“I disagree.” The class stills and stares at you.

“I disagree with Lexa.”

Lexa, beautiful and stunned, turns to look at you.

“It seems similar on the face of it but it’s not. Mary’s been back for months and she’s regaining her people’s trust but more importantly she’s realized that she was right initially to take her stand and leave. This Mary who discovers her parents lie and makes decision to tell everyone is not the same Mary who revealed the elder’s deceit. She does it because she believes it’s right. Not because she wants to win everyone back.” You finish, far more passionate than you realized you were.

The class is quiet and Mr. Kane looks stunned.

But Lexa smiles and it’s everything. “If I may, Clarke." She starts, "The consequences are what make it the same. The panic is the same. While she’s grown, they haven’t.”

“That’s not her fault!”

“It isn’t but the book is written from an outside point of view and while there are strong implications that she had good intentions, we are not in her head. There are two sides to every story, Clarke.”

“You don’t think she’s changed?”

“I didn’t say that. I agree with you in thinking that she did. I just think it doesn’t matter in the grander context.”

“It’s all that matters in the grander context!”

She laughs.

You huff.

“Your point of view is bleak, Lexa.”

“Yours, Clarke, is idealistic.”

“Alright, ladies.” Mr. Kane cuts in, almost ecstatic. “Great points of view! Anyone else want to chime in?”

You don’t care about anyone else.

Because.

There’s a grin on her face and there’s a matching one on yours.

And it’s been two weeks since the semester started.

And you want to..

You want to..

You just want to fucking kiss her.

 

Whoa.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And dear Lord you want to laugh and kiss her at the same time and you can’t decide between the two of them.
> 
> That’s a lie.
> 
> You want to kiss her.
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> She groans again and you take pity on her.
> 
> “Let’s wing it.”
> 
> She jolts up. “What? No!”
> 
> “Why not?”
> 
> “Clarke, we can not ‘wing’ a presentation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the wait. I was overseas for work and I'm back home now. My bag initially did not arrive with me and it was horrifying because among many important things, this laptop was in it. All of my stories, pictures, everything. But, days later, we were reunited. And here's your friendly reminder to back stuff up, friends! It's vital. 
> 
> Also, if you're travelling, some friendly advice that you won't find in a travel blog. Do not drop your passport and or visa into a toilet. You're welcome.
> 
> I had fun with this chap. Hope you do as well.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Wow.

The rest of your Friday is a giant blur of gay.

Because that’s what you are, right?

But you like guys too, right?

Yeah.

Yeah.

You do.

But in the face of all this gay you’re being engulfed in, any boy you’ve ever liked is so very very far from your mind.

The smile Lexa sends you when she leaves English makes you even gayer.

You walk around from class to class in a gay daze.

You find yourself spending a gay lunch in the bathroom.

Your Wikipedia session is all about sexuality.

Lesbian.

Gay.

Bi.

Pan.

Ace.

Straight.

Etc etc etc.

So many et ceteras and your head is spinning with sexuality.

And it’s not that you were ignorant by any means before but you just never paid too much attention.

And now..

Well..

Now you’re being gay in the girls bathroom.

Your day continues to pass in a gay fashion and when you end up in detention you spend it gayly drawing gay hearts and itching not to write Lexa’s name next to them.

Your gay joy is momentarily interrupted when you walk to the front of the school and realize your Volvo is still in the shop.

How straight.

Honestly.

When your Uber driver picks you up, you can’t help but get lost in your gay thoughts and tune out her gushing about how her daughter is excelling in her first year of college.

You don’t sleep.

You feel so disconnected from everything and everyone.

Unread texts that have spanned the past couple of days fill your phone.

Octavia. Monty. Bellamy. Miller.

Though you don’t read any of them, you note that Finn and Raven haven’t reached out to you.

You hadn’t expected it.

But it’s still weird given how much you used to communicate with them.

You’re sure you should care more.

But it seems so far away.

There’s layers and layers of gay between your worries and you.

And you’ve never felt more connected with yourself.

 

You gay your weekend away and when you pick up your car from a cheerful Jerry you consider putting up a hand and interrupting him to announce that you’re gay.

But.

He’s telling you that they’re covering the cost of the repair because it’s something that they should have caught when they last brought it in for not starting.

He flashes a grin as he hands you the keys and oh..

Is that a chink in your gay armour?

He is cute.

But when you start the car, you’re reminded of when Lexa rode in it and the gay hits you once again.

All is well.

In hindsight, you should have fucking known.

You’ve watched every Hayley Kiyoko video and many times over watched the damn movie you’re pretending not to know the name of about the damn bride who falls for the damn girl who does her flowers.

Is doing one’s flowers a metaphor?

But, really.

The signs have been there all along.

Your senior year has been one gay breakdown from the moment you heard Lexa speak on the first day in English.

You fantasized about her neck for pete’s sake!

And oh.

Not that you forgot.

But it’s hitting you now harder than ever.

You kissed her.

You.

Kissed.

Her.

Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

The car behind you honks their horn, and yeah, maybe the light’s been green for a while.

 

Monday is scary.

Because you’re feeling a little more bi now.

And now that the rainbow that was following you around is somewhat diminished, you remember.

The school is still abuzz.

Apparently not everyone’s weekend was as wonderful as yours and you’re still the subject of the whispers.

You don’t have long to wait because you drove yourself to school today but you still agonize over the six minutes as they tick down on your father’s old wristwatch.

“Clarke.”

“Jesus Fuck!” You exclaim, startled, as you look up to find Octavia.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve texted, called. You haven’t come to lunch.”

“Oh yeah umm..”

Octavia sighs when you trail off before she shakes her head, “This about the Finn thing?”

“Well yeah..”

“Whatever dude. Time you got rid of him.”

What?

You meet her eyes in shock and she seems determined but sincere.

Typical of her, really.

“Listen Clarke, I don’t care about him. You weren’t really happy with him so it’s all obviously for the best. They can have him if they want.” She finishes, gesturing at the whispering girls nearest to them.

And Holy Shit.

You give Octavia too little credit.

She may not fill your ear with endless validations and stories, but she’s perceptive in a way that nobody you really know is.

But.

“Raven..”

“Fuck Raven, Clarke. She’s being a jerk about this. She’s your friend too. Well, she’s supposed to be.”

Octavia’s right.

You know this.

But.

What if she’s not?

“I just..” You start.

“Come to lunch. We can sit with Lincoln and Nyko and Lexa and them.”

All your thoughts are useless once she mentions Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

You’re so gay.

“I’m bi, Octavia. I think I like girls. I know. I know I like..I like girls.”

Oh God. You’re coming out.

This is you coming out.

Octavia’s the only person you’ve told and you’re scared because what if..

“Okay. So are you coming to lunch?”

Huh?

What?

The bell rings.

“Come to lunch, Clarke. I have your back.” She says as she backs away.

You’re still stunned.

“Oh yeah, also, text me back from now on.” And with that, she’s gone.

And for a moment, the whispers don’t matter.

Because Octavia is your friend in the truest sense of the word.

But the moment doesn’t last long and by the time English rolls around, you feel heavy under the whispers and doubts are slipping into your brain.

Mr. Kane is humming when you arrive in class.

You grumble hello back when he greets you because you’ve been trained to be suspicious of overly joyful teachers. And while he’s always cheerful, the fact that he’s practically bouncing is worrisome.

You smell a pop quiz.

Before you can ask, Lexa walks in and..

Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

The rainbow is back and you think you can welcome a hundred pop quizzes if they come with this feeling.

But then again that’s a really high number.

Lexa sends you a soft smile as she sets her backpack down.

And oh..

A trillion pop quizzes are definitely within your range.

You watch as she settles and try to ignore the stares and whispers being sent your way as your classmates filter in.

But Mr. Kane as it seems is so eager that once your classmates catch sight of him, they settle into uneasy silence.

“Right!” He exclaims as soon as the bell rings, moving to quickly shut the door.

An unlucky Jasper is hit right in the face with it and Mr. Kane is so excited that he simply tugs the bewildered boy in and ushers him to his desk. “Okay. So I watched a video last night on exercises for teaching of literary themes.”

You want to groan.

Nothing good can be coming.

“..want you to split up into groups of two.”

What?

The class as it seems, is quicker on the uptake than you are and is already moving their desks.

You half expect someone to drag their desk over to yours but they don’t, of course.

Why would they?

When you’re..

When you’re..

You look up to see Jasper approaching Lexa.

But.

She’s looking at you.

God.

She’s looking at you.

She’s up and headed towards you with her bag and her book.

And.

She takes the empty desk next to you and slides it over and sends you a smile.

Your returning grin must be dopey and huge but she widens her smile and you’ve never loved Mr. Kane more.

And also Lexa.

Definitely Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

And you know you’re staring but she’s so beautiful and so close to you and she’s looking at you and you think that..

“..looking forward to seeing your presentations at the end of class.”

What?

What?

“What?” Lexa voices as she swivels her head.

But Mr. Kane has already settled himself gleefully at his desk and the rest of the class is hunched over their handouts.

Handouts?

When did the handout on your desk get there?

“Did you catch that?” Lexa asks you.

“No. You..you didn’t at all?” You answer shakily.

She shakes her head with a blush and oh..  

What a pretty colouring to her cheeks..

“I wasn’t..I wasn’t listening.” Her cheeks get redder and you can’t bear to look at her.

You turn and raise your hand.

“Yes, Clarke.” Mr. Kane calls out as he stands up and makes his way over.

“I uhh..didn’t catch the instructions.”

He frowns before looking over at Lexa hopefully.

Wow.

Rude much?

But you turn to look at her and she’s looking down and you think you can make out a small upturn of her lips behind her embarrassment.

And what were you just thinking?

Mr. Kane walks over to her side and bends over explaining the assignment.

But his proximity to her has caused her to lean closer into you and you struggle to breathe through the onslaught of gay that hits you.

How are your classmates unaffected when her shampoo smells like vanilla with a trace of mint?

Your heart is beating away and you’re positive she can hear it.

But she’s so close to you and you’re one breath away from pushing her hair back from her neck and..

“Got it girls?”

Lexa nods, “Got it!”

Thank God because you certainly didn’t.

But when she turns to you, her eyes are wide and she’s shaking her head. “Did you get that?” She whispers furtively.

“What? No. He was talking to you, I thought..”

“He was talking to both of us. I..it’s a group project. He said your name.”

“He said my name? What else did he say?”

“I..I..don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on.” She laments woefully as she buries her head in her hands.

And how dramatic, really.

You never have any idea what’s going on.

But then again, you’re convinced she’s an all knowing deity and confusion must be..well..confusing to her.

There also may be a teeny tiny part of you that’s loving this.

She groans and puts her head on her desk.

And dear Lord you want to laugh and kiss her at the same time and you can’t decide between the two of them.

That’s a lie.

You want to kiss her.

Yeah.

She groans again and you take pity on her.

“Let’s wing it.”

She jolts up. “What? No!”

“Why not?”

“Clarke, we can not ‘wing’ a presentation.”

And oh do you love how she makes the word wing sound taboo.

“Lexa. What option do we have?” You ask while pointedly glancing at Mr. Kane.

“Do you want to ask him..”

“No!” She exclaims, “We can figure this out. After all we’ve read the novel and can identify themes based on..”

“So we’re winging it.”

“We are not ‘winging it’ Clarke, we’re simply making inferences based on the..”

“Winging it.”

She huffs.

You grin.

The assignment from what you can tell is filling in boxes that correspond to various body parts on a sexless outline of a person.

You hate this kind of crap.

You ace tests.

Essays are a breeze.

But pointless exercises where you have to draw pointless conclusions are just that.

Pointless.

And yet.

Today.

You love it.

You make all manner of suggestions for your presentation and she huffs and blushes her way through your words.

She makes a valiant effort.

You must admit.

But against your determination to waste time and earn small smiles from her wonderful wonderful lips, she is helpless.

All too soon, Mr. Kane calls you both up and she is pale with worry but you’ve never been more exhilarated.

You perform the rap you’d written about frequent usage of pars pro toto in the novel, making direct links to the body parts in the handout.

And she grumbles her way through the haiku you’d insisted was the perfect encapsulation of the theme of brevity of life that runs through the story.

The class is stunned, unsure of how to react but Mr. Kane practically jumps for joy and gushes about your alternative take on the assignment.

Your true victory however comes from the eye roll and full smile Lexa sends you when the class is dismissed.

It’s a short-lived victory however.

Should you have expected differently?

It’s amazing how you can go from being fully invigorated to a point where moving any muscle takes all of your effort.

Calculus drains you.

You’re not sure how much longer you can do this.

It should be getting better but it’s not.

They talk and they talk and they talk.

And your fingers hover over Finn’s contact in your phone several times.

He would take you back, right?

You don’t want him.

But.

God.

You don’t want this either.

You can’t do lunch.

You’re a tenth of the person Octavia is.

She’s carefree and given the amount of times you’ve almost burst into tears in the last fifty minutes, you’re not.

The girl’s bathroom it is.

But lunch makes you think of Lexa.

And.

Is it hot in here?

Maybe your Wikipedia topic of the day should be climate change.

But just as you decide on it, your name is called.

And.

“Hi, Lexa!” You manage, cheery, somewhat.

“Where are you going?” She asks, short of breath when she jogs over to you.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Oh..umm well.”

“You haven’t been to lunch in a while.”

She noticed?

Why does she..

“Clarke?”

“I can’t..I just can’t Lexa. Okay?” And you feel sick all of a sudden.

“Clarke.” She says.

Soft.

So soft.

She holds out a defensive hand.

“I get it.” She whispers.

You shake your head because she doesn’t.

She doesn’t.

Does she?

She runs a hand through her hair, “Sometimes when it’s too much, I go to the library. Mr. Wallace doesn’t mind.”

And oh.

Maybe she does.

And God.

Do you hate that she does.

But she’s looking at you as she leads the way.

And really, what alternative do you have?

You follow.

You’d follow her anywhere really.

Mr. Wallace looks up briefly when you walk in with Lexa.

He sends a smile at Lexa that dims when he looks at you.

He shrugs regardless and tilts his head to indicate his acquiescence.

And how often does Lexa eat here?

She leads the way with a practiced confidence, deep into the stacks and to the back corner set of tables.

She sets her backpack down and rummages through it and it takes you a moment before you realize you need to sit too.

You sit across from her, nervous at being in her presence.

But you can breathe.

And you want to kiss her for giving you a reprieve.

Well..

You want to kiss her in general.

When you snap out of your thoughts, you realize she has an entire spread out.

Salad, fruit, nuts, yoghurt, sliced hard-boiled egg, an assortment of cheeses.

You laugh at the sheer amount of food and she colours prettily.

“Lexa are you planning on inviting more people over.”

“No!” She blurts before shaking her head, “No.” She repeats in a softer tone. “I just feel that it is best to always be prepared.”

“For hibernation?” You ask. Because really, you are astonished.

“Claaarke..” She drags out like she expects you’ll relent.

And fuck.

You do.

“Help yourself.” She says after a beat.

“I couldn’t” You say.

“Oh Thank God. I barely have enough for myself.”

You smile, endeared.

She rolls her eyes. “Clarke I’m joking. Please have some. I have more than I’ll be able to finish.”

Fine, if she insists.

It’s not like you were eyeing the cheeses or anything.

“Wow. I thought I’d never convince you.” She teases, “That’s the most effort I’ve ever had to put in to get people to eat my food. Lincoln and Nyko have on occasion taken my food right out of my bag. They claim that they’re growing boys.”

You think of the two boys’ towering forms. “Well..” You say.

She laughs.

And oh dear.

You’re not sure what you did in a past life to deserve her laugh but you’re so caught up in it that you don’t hear her next words.

You can tell the tone has shifted and she’s biting her lip.

“Sorry?” You say.

“I was just..” She sighs. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. The students at this school can be..”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t miss it. Although I certainly don’t think we had it quite as rough as you do given that he’s..well liked.”

You want to laugh at her choice of words to describe Finn but then you latch on to it.

We.

“Of course, we were in it together and we were happy so that gave as a degree of immunity. And she was always so carefree.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Sometimes..she had a wonderful presence. Has still, I’m sure.”

“I’m sorry they talked about you.” You say.

She shrugs.

But you remember.

Lascivious comments.

Hateful whispers.

But you were curious.

God even then you were curious.

And they looked happy and so beautiful together.

“I hope you’re not listening to them.”

Oh but you are.

She interprets your silence correctly because she leans forward urgently.

“Clarke. I think you made the right choice for you. I don’t think you owe him anything. And I certainly don’t think you owe them anything. You’re so strong and so smart and so fuck..”

Did she just swear?

“Don’t listen to them Clarke. I know it’s hard but you’re special and you’ll rise above all of this.”

And God you want to cry because..

Oh you’re crying.

She pulls her chair around to your side so quickly you almost don’t catch it.

Her hand is hovering over yours and she looks so torn. “Clarke, sorry..I..”

You shake your head. “No, not it’s not your fault I just..thank you.”

She shakes her head puzzled but she lowers her hand slightly and you can feel the warmth that her palm exudes.

She hesitates but as you wipe your stray tears and send her a smile, she lowers her hand more and finally places it over yours.

And despite the jolt that runs through your body, you’ve never felt more anchored.

“Thank you.” You say again.

She meets your eyes for a long moment after your words but is silent as her eyes trail back to your hands.

You think of the flagellation you’ve been inflicting on yourself and the hand now that’s keeping you steady and you think that..you know that you should stop being so hard on yourself.

So you do.

When Lexa returns to her side of the table, you occupy the rest of lunch, between ravenous bites, with a play by play account of your earlier English presentation and outlandish suggestions for a voluntary sequel that have her blushing and smiling and laughing.

And you’re filled with joy.

And filled with gay.

And more than content with yourself.

Your first test is your Physics class.

The whispers try to chase you and you stand your ground.

You smile sweetly at the perpetrators and they gape back before busying themselves with their textbooks.

You find yourself raising your hand when your Physics teacher, Dr. Cartwig, asks for a volunteer to work through a problem.

The gasps ripple through the class.

You can’t blame them.

You’ve been in school with them for years.

You don’t participate.

You doodle.

You don’t pay attention.

You figure it out after school and on the weekends.

You do well on tests.

It’s how you like it.

But you want to work this out.

It’s you and the blackboard and you take your time.

Write it out and consider before you conclude and put the piece of chalk down.

You turn to Dr. Cartwig and she turns to the class.

A shy Maya raises her hand and asks you to clarify how you jumped from your fourth to your fifth step.

So you do and add three more steps.

Her face lights up and so does Dr. Cartwig’s.

She sends you back to your desk with a ‘Nice job, Clarke!’

And when did learning become so exhilarating?

It’s easy not to listen to the whispers when you’re actively participating in class.

You’ve raised your hand more in the classes after lunch than you have in your entire academic career.

And boy is life good to you because you not only have no detention at the end of the day but you also have a Volvo waiting for you in the parking lot.

You’re headed eagerly to it when..

“Clarke!” Bellamy has you engulfed in a hug before you can even process your name. “Where’ve you been, I’ve been looking for you all over!”

You stutter and you stammer and he consequentially beats you to speaking.

“Listen Clarke, I’m sorry about all this. He’s way overboard with all the pictures and stuff he’s posting on Instagram.”

All of the..?

Oh. Well that’s why they’re still whispering.

But.

“What pictures?” You manage.

“You don’t have Instagram, that’s right.”  And God why does everyone insist on pointing that..

Oh.

He has the app open on his phone in front of you and there’s pictures of you and Finn with quotes about betrayal and pictures of you and him where you’ve been cut out save for an arm or a bit of your hair.

“What the fuck?”

Bellamy winces, “Yeah..he’s been a little strange.”

“Where is he?”

And you’re not sure what you’re planning do if he tells you but..

“MIA. Hasn’t been in school since Wednesday and bailed on me this weekend for surfing. Raven’s seen him.”

He hasn’t been in school since you broke up?

What?

How?

You take a breath and focus on the rest of his words. “You’ve been talking to Raven?”

“Not really, all she wants to talk about is how selfish you’re being.”

“I’m not being selfish!”

You’re not.

You’re not.

You’re not..

You’re not...

You’re not?

“I know that, Clarke. She..Octavia gave her a piece of her mind at lunch today.”

What?

“What?”

“Yeah, wish I had lunch same period as you guys. I missed it but apparently Raven ditched the rest of the day.”

And God.

You hadn’t even considered anything existing outside of you and Lexa in the library.

“Fuck.” Bellamy cringes.

He’s never been a fan of swearing.

“Sorry.” You hasten to respond.

He shakes his head, “It’s called for in this situation. Sorry, Clarke.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Still. How are you holding up?”

You think about it for a moment.

And yeah, Finn still posting is not great.

And your friend group disintegrating isn’t great.

But.

You have Octavia, and now you know you have Bellamy.

And maybe you shouldn’t have rushed to ignore everyone when this all broke.

“I’m good. Really good.”

But.

Wait.

“Bell..” You start.

He knows you.

He knows immediately what you’re asking.

Him and Raven have a history.

Have a thing.

No one really knows the details because they’re both closed lipped.

“Worry about you, okay?”

But.

“But.”

“Seriously, it’s okay Clarke. I have your back.”

And you’re floored.

You hug him tightly and peck him on the cheek when he lets go.

“What are you gonna do about him?”

Great question.

Your answer is a shrug.

You have no clue.

 

On Tuesday you decide to find your friends instead of letting them find you.

“Yo, whatsup Princess.” Miller is leaning against the wall by the arts building.

“Hey Nate.”

“What’s going on?” He asks lazily.

“Sorry for not texting you back."

He shrugs. “It’s all right. Monster Jam this Saturday, wanna come?”

“Yeah!”

Because he’s always a great time and it’s been far too long since you’ve been out with him.

“Are you alright?”

“You know what, Nate, I am.”

“Cool.” And it’s really that simple with him.

No questions.

Just acceptance and apparently Monster Truck shows.

Monty is a little bit different. You spot him in the hallway near the basketball courts.

Which is..

Strange.

“Clarke!” He exclaims as he pulls you into a hug.

“Are you okay?” He cringes as he asks.

“I am.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really? Really?”

You laugh. “Yes Monty, really, really.”

“Well that’s..great. I mean yeah..great Clarke!”

He smiles warmly at you and it’s infectious and you must beam at each other for several minutes before you startle.

Oh no.

The last series of texts you remember him sending you before everything got crazy were panicked texts about what to wear to his date with Harper.

“Oh my God, Monty!”

“Oh my God Clarke, What?”

“Your date! How did it go?”

He looks bewildered for a second before he breaks into a smile. “Terribly.”

“What?”

“I wore a dress shirt and suit jacket complete with bow tie but we literally  went to the neighbourhood park.”

“Oh no.”

“And then I spilled my mustard all over her when we stopped at a hot dog stand and made her drop her phone into the sewer.”

“Monty no..”

And oh God. How bad can his luck be?

You should have called him.

Texted him.

“She asked me out again!”

What?

“What?”

“Yeah! I think we might be kinda dating.”

God bless her.

And she’s the devil apparently because she appears suddenly with Zoe by her side.

And oh.

That’s why Monty is here.

She’s a pretty great basketball player according to the school newspaper.

He beams when he spots her.

It’s incredibly cute.

You leave when they look up and Zoe’s stare finds you.

You can’t separate your ‘friend’ from her whispers that have been drilling into your brain over the past few days.

“Gotta go.” You mumble to Monty as you make your escape.

You win some you lose some.

You wonder if Raven is in school today.

Or Finn for that matter.

Octavia had texted last night reiterating that you should come to lunch and you’re seriously considering it.

But then again.

You could convince Lexa to join you in the library.

Lexa.

Lexa.

Lexa.

The library it is.

Tough decision really.

You just have to find a way to make her go along with it.

English rolls around and you’re first in the class as usual.

As usual?

God.

Who are you even?

Eh.

You don’t mind.

Not when Lexa comes in and her eyes dart straight to you like she expects you.

“Clarke.” She greets.

“Lexa.” You sound out through a grin.

She grins back and you think she’s going to sit down like she usually does but she doesn’t.

Oh god, she doesn’t.

She walks up to you instead and leans a hip on the desk beside you.

And what a hip it is.

“How are you?”

You trail your eyes away from her hips and her long long legs and meet her eyes.

A mistake really because the look she’s giving you is so soft and you’re so weak.

And the words are out of your mouth before you can properly think them through.

“Do you think we could have lunch at the library again?”

Her brow furrows and she leans closer and you’re in a daze from her proximity and your stupidity.

“Of course, Clarke.”

You’re a genius.

An absolute genius.

Mr. Kane walks in with a cheery greeting then and Lexa hesitates as she looks at you before she returns to her desk.

And ugh.

Why the heck did you decide to sit in the back on the first day?

But she runs a hand through her hair and musses it up slightly and well, this view isn’t so bad.

English is fucking boring today.

The first major assignment of the year, an essay, is due on Monday.

And Kane forgoes a healthy discussion to teach the class the structure of essay writing.

You’re a strong essay writer so you tune him out, pull out your notebook and spend the entire class trying not to draw Lexa.

When the bell rings, your page is covered by a thick forest of trees.

And you don’t know how to explain it but you feel Lexa in the trees.

Well.

You can explain it.

Her last name is Woods.

And also.

You’re gay.

“Library?” She asks as you walk out at the same time.

“Library.” You confirm with a giddy smile.

You hurry from Calculus to the library when the bell rings for lunch and hope like hell you don’t run into Octavia.

You don’t.

You send a smile to Mr. Wallace as you rush by him and he nods at you.

You don’t have to wait long when you get to the table.

She sits across from you with a small smile and pulls out her giant haul of food.

Mostly the same assortment as the day before.

Lexa seems to really like her healthy stuff and you can’t claim to hate it with the way you dive in.

“Yes, please Clarke. You’re very welcome.” She teases.

And you pause mid bite of an apple slice half mortified.

She rolls her eyes and chuckles at your expression and you almost choke at the sight and sound.  

It’s silent at first.

Mostly because you’re eagerly attacking her food but you’re only so capable and you find yourself slowing as you fill up.

“Do you want to talk about it? She asks.

“Hmmm?”

“Did  someone say something? Today?”

“No. I mean…yeah probably sure. I haven’t been listening.”

She lights up. “Oh. Good. I was worried when you asked to have lunch here. The cafeteria can be..intense with so many people there. I completely understand if you still need more time before you go back.”

Ohh.

That’s what she’s talking about.

With your brand new attitude you’re not really worried about the whispers in the cafeteria.

Much.

She’s looking at you expectantly.

You have to agree with her.

It’s a tiny white lie.

No big deal.

“No this is..it’s nice, Lexa. I just wanted this. With you.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

Clarke.

Okay.

Not at all the, ‘Oh yes, Lexa it’s much too difficult for me to even imagine even being around all those awful people.’

Or slightly less dramatic, “Yeah. I need some more time.”

Or even just a simple shrug.

Oh God.

You hate this truth kick you’ve been on lately.

She blushes furiously and is quiet for several seconds.

You’re mortified and your heart is pumping away and you’re half convinced she’s going to walk away and never speak to you again.

But.

She’s smiling.

And she’s blushing harder.

And.

It’s quiet.

So quiet.

“I like this too.”

You.

Fucking.

Love.

The.

Truth.

You’re nearly out of you mind on endorphins for the next few minutes.

There’s silence between you but it feels full.

So full.

And you have a bad idea.

It’s so bad.

“Lexa.” You say.

She looks up shyly.

“Do you want to go to a Monster Jam?”

“A what?”

“Monster Jam. It’s a Monster Truck show. It’s in town.”

And yes.

You realize that these are actual words that you are saying to Lexa right now.

She cocks her head and frowns. “Umm. You’re serious?”

Fair fucking question.

“Yes. I am. How’s your Saturday?” She shakes her head like she can’t believe what you’re saying.

You can’t either.

But it’s been two weeks of your mouth going rogue and you’re not as fazed.

That’s a lie.

You’re mortified.

But it’s too late.

“My Saturday. It’s umm… I can make time.”

“Great. I’ll let you know the details tomorrow.”

“Okay.. Okay.”

“It’ll likely just be Miller and Bryan and then us.”

And Christ.

That sounds like the shittiest double date in the history of the world.

Your heart drops.

Oh God.

Date?

Is it?

I mean you..

Does she..

Would she..

You internally groan.

What did you just do?

But Lexa is focused on her nuts and completely unaware of your internal struggle.

She looks up at you after a moment and well at least your grave will be gay.

 

It’s not that you’re avoiding Octavia per se, it’s just that you like lunches in the Library with Lexa and she likes lunches with you and you just want to stay in your bubble.

Oh God.

She likes lunches with you.

She said it.

Out loud.

Wow.

So you’re avoiding Octavia.

Over the next three days you dart from class to class furtively.

You arrive at school with barely enough time to make it to your first class in case she’s lying in wait.

And you hope like heck that she doesn’t find out you’ve been at the library for lunch.

On Wednesday in English you smile at Lexa and she smiles at you and that’s the limit of your interaction until lunch but it’s unspoken.

She meets you there and you can’t help but grin widely at her.

She grins back and oh dear God.

Help. Please.

Or maybe not.

You’re fine with this wonderful suffering.

You had texted Miller the night before and you’re armed with details.

“So Ark Stadium at 7. Cool?”

“That works Clarke.” She answers softly.

And your brain shuts down momentarily at the way she says your name. It could be seconds or hours before you reboot but she’s looking at you.

And.

Oh.

You may have to shut down for good this time.

Because her lip is caught in her mouth and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful sight.

“..meet there?”

Huh.

“Huh?” You ask.

“Did you want to meet there?” She asks again.

Oh.

God.

How could you not have thought of the logistics?

You’re panicking.

You’re panicking.

“I can pick you up.” You manage coolly.

“Will you be driving your own vehicle or should I perhaps expect an Uber?”

Should she..oh.

Her smirk.

Christ.

She’s making a joke.

She’s making a joke.

At your expense and oh God.

You slam your head down onto the table.

Because it’s funny.

It’s really fucking funny.

And you’re embarrassed.

But she’s laughing.

Loudly and melodically and beautifully.

And you like her.

So so much.

The end of the school day comes and you’re nervous.

You’re actually nervous about debate.

You’d missed the first two weeks but more importantly you’re not sure what to expect.

You would be devastated if they had fallen to the gossip that some you considered friends had fallen to.

Because you consider them like family.

You’ve travelled all over with them for tournaments and spent countless hours prepping with them.

Your fears are unfounded it seems.

Echo spots you loitering in the corner and drags you in. “Let’s go Griff.”

She sits you down unceremoniously and takes up a spot at the makeshift podium you had all put together the semester before last.

Everyone’s eyes are trained on the podium and both Roan and Luna flash you grins from their respective sides

“Welcome. It's been two long weeks and we're here today to witness a debate that Clarke Griffin’s two week detention was unjust. That question will be settled right in front of you by our esteemed debaters. On the Affirmative we have, Luna Waters and on the Negative, we have Roan Azgeda.”

And your smile is sloppy and wide and God you love your teammates.

Luna steps up with a smirk. “I’d like to start with a thank you to Clarke Griffin for finally joining us. You’ve been missed.”

Luna dives right into it arguing that the sheer length of the detention, disregarding the crime, constitutes cruel and unusual punishment.

She then dissects your crime, talking back to Mr. Kane, and compares it to other cases where students had talked back and received far lesser punishments going as far as naming students who attended school in the 1950’s.

You don’t even want to know how she obtained that information.

She adds finally, that the relationship between yourself and the principal, your mother, who she refuses to name with an exaggerated wink, should have invalidated her from being involved in your trial.

You roll your eyes heavily at the idea that the two sentence conversation between your mother and yourself could be considered a trial.

Roan gets up for cross examination almost gleefully and sends a smirk your way.

He questions Luna immediately on how it’s possible to disregard the crime when you talk about cruel and unusual punishment.

Luna responds that even though you waive certain rights when you commit a crime, that punishments such as this one are inhumane and therefore the crime of the person they are levied upon is irrelevant.

You snort.

Even you weren’t this dramatic about your two week detention and you were pretty dramatic about it.

He questions the cases stating that it is impossible to truly compare punishments because both the punishers and the punished had been different in each case.

Luna responds by saying that the difference in parties is irrelevant and that the nature of the punishment is what is determines its justness.

His final question is somewhat rhetorical.

He asks if the complaint about the relationship between yourself and your mother would be scrutinized as heavily were the punishment adequate or even too light for the crime.

Luna sighs and responds that his question is relying on hypothetical situations and doesn’t address whether the punishment in the real life situation is just.

Roan simply winks at you as you shake your head.

He thanks Luna and starts his Negative. “I’d like to take the time to thank Clarke Griffin for making this debate win a piece of cake.”

The room explodes into ohhs and you see Luna huff.

Roan starts by stating facts about the increase in behavioral problems in schools and the related research that proves that stronger punishments have been successful in curbing those problems.

He goes on to list statistics that show that punishments tend been to be discriminatory in both allocation and strength, targeting students who don’t perform as well in class and he concludes that it is important for the school’s disciplinary body to show that no one is above a heavier punishment despite their gpa.

You laugh knowing that there’s a special dig in there for you.

He’s always been competitive with you in the classes you’ve shared.

And then he smiles slyly.

And everyone fidgets expectantly.

“And finally.” He says, “I’d like to point out that Clarke is a little shit and she totally deserved it.”

The cheers reverberate throughout the room and Echo jumps up in all the chaos to declare Roan the winner despite Luna’s protests that the debate isn’t even over yet.

Echo silences everyone and solemnly asks Luna, “Can you argue that Clarke is not a shit?”

Luna looks at you with a faux grimace, “No but I can argue everything else.”

You shake your head at her fondly and laugh when Roan bellows, “Too bad! That was a K.O!” 

God you love them.

And between Lexa induced gay breakdowns and good friends what more could you want from senior year.

 

On Thursday Mr. Kane has you work in groups on worksheets rating thesis statements and conclusions.

And you hate these exercises and can’t wait to get back into literary discussion especially when you imagine Lexa’s face when you argued with her in class last week.

Right before the gay hit.

You wonder what other benefits you could gain from literary discussion.

You shake your head and abandon daydream Lexa for real life Lexa who is hunched over the worksheet on the desk pulled up right beside you.

Because she had looked at you the moment Mr. Kane said group.

And your heart..

Oh your heart..

“Clarke.” Lexa murmurs.

“Yes Lexa.”

“You’re staring.” She observes, eyes never leaving the worksheet.

You take stock of your position.

Your cheek is resting on your palm as your elbow holds you up off your desk and your body is entirely turned in her direction.

Whatever.

Yeah.

You’re staring.

And obviously so.

“You’re taking that too seriously.” You say in lieu of a proper response to her accusation.

“It’s an in-class assignment, Clarke.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re an in-class assignment.”

She places her pen down and shoots you a faux glare. “That doesn’t make sense.”

You have to agree.

Because you can’t limit her to just English class.

She’s spilling into all areas of your thoughts and you are more than willing to surrender.

“Are you going to make yourself useful?” She gestures at the worksheet.

“Do you need my help?”

She huffs, “No Clarke, I do not need your help.”

“So..” You raise a cheeky brow, “You want my help? Because I have some ideas..”

And she must remember your ideas on the last group assignment because she shakes her head quickly. “Actually, now that I think about it, I have it handled.” She rushes to grab her pen, “You can keep doing..whatever you were doing.”

Is she..

Is she asking you to stare?

You take the red on her cheeks and ears as a yes and you settle in for the long run.

You’ve actually brought your own lunch to have at the library with Lexa today.

And you regret it thoroughly when Lexa questions your sandwich meat to lettuce ratio and goes on and on about how unhealthy the mayonnaise you’ve drowned your sandwich in is.

 

On Friday, she snorts, actually snorts with laughter, and you have to pause in the middle of your story about your short-lived ballet career to remember how to breathe.

You ultimately do finish your story to her delight and consequentially yours and you both have to rush to pack up your stuff when the bell rings to signal lunch’s end because you’d lost track of time.

“So umm…tomorrow.”

Right.

Tomorrow.

Monster Jam.

You hadn’t forgotten.

Not at all.

You’d been obsessively thinking about it in fact. “Yeah, I uhh. I can pick you up at 6.”

She blushes.

You blush.

“Uhh yeah. Should umm. Maybe you should..you know get my number.”

Oh God.

Right.

Right.

“Yeah. Yeah. Lemme..umm.. here’s mine.” You pull out a pen from your backpack pocket and reach for her hand. “Can I?”

“Oh yeah sure.” You take her hand and oh.

Has it always been this soft?

You shake your head and focus.

You start to write but..

“You should umm uncap the pen.” She says.

Right right.

Of course.

Of course.

You uncap the pen and start to write.

What’s your number again?

Shit.

You hold your breath and start writing.

Is that a seven or a three?

You cross it out and try again.

Is that a zero or a one?

You cross it out and oh God.

You can’t really read any of the numbers and she’s frowning as she tries to make sense of it.

What do you do?

What do you do?

She gently moves her hand from where it’s held in yours.

And yeah sure.

You can’t blame her for wanting to walk away from the mess that you are.

“Maybe we should..” She holds her phone out.

“Oh yeah.”

Damn.

That would have been so much easier than vandalizing her palm.

You take longer that you’d like inputting your number and she takes the phone from you and calls the number.

“Cool.” You say as you pull out your vibrating phone.

She smiles.

“So six?” You ask.

“Six.” She says.

 

You’re late.

You’re late.

And your mom won’t stop lecturing.

In your excitement, you’d forgotten to tell her about your plans.

She generally gives you free reign but she likes to know where you’re going ahead of time.

It’s not unreasonable, after all, your car has broken down in some strange places.

But.

You’d come down to wash your car two hours ago and answered her query about where you were going off-handedly and you hadn’t managed to take a step further.

And when your mother rants.

She rants.

She started with your failure to inform and had gone into everything from not taking classes in the summers to your behavior with Mr. Kane, and currently to the fact that you haven’t started working on college applications yet.

You manage to send a quick text to Lexa letting her know you’re running late when your mom turns around and throws her hands up in exasperation but miss the response that buzzes back because she’s back to facing you.

It’s another thirty minutes before she releases you and you dart upstairs and throw on a shirt and jeans and muss you hair up quickly in the mirror.

It’ll have to do.

You run down and hop into your car and pray that any cops on the road will magically miss you.

You had all these plans.

You were going to be right on time.

Take her to a great hole in the wall you know for a quick dinner.

There was going to be time to remind her that you were a halfway sane person before you whisked her off to a stadium to watch really big cars jump around.

And now.

Now you’re going to have to go directly from hello to whoa look at the shock absorbers on that thing.

And you’re panicked and you have no time to think straight because you’re here at her house.

You walk up the driveway and to her door and try desperately not to think of the last time you were here.

You fail.

And now you’re flustered as you knock.

But when the door swings open, you’re cold.

“Clarke, is it?” Her mother stands before you in all her glory.

“Y..yes ma’am.”

“I understand that you’re taking Lexa to a ‘Monster Jam.’”

And her tone of voice.

Oh her tone of voice.

Why?

Why did you ever think to ask Lexa to Monster Jam?

“Yes.”

“You have tickets?”

“Yes.”

She stares at you for a long moment.

Does she?

She wants you to show her?

“They’re in the car.”

She keeps staring.

Oh God.

You scurry off to your Volvo and thank Miller for remembering to give them to you on Friday morning.

You can’t help but think that if it had been will call, your will to live would have been called right out of you by Lexa’s mother.

Bad joke.

You walk up the driveway, tickets in hand and catch Lexa’s apologetic glance from where she’s come up behind her mother.

You hand the tickets over nervously and she must scrutinize them for ten minutes at least before Lexa sighs and she relents.

“Midnight.” Is all she says before she walks back into the house.

Is she?

Is that when she’s going to kill you?

Oh gosh.

You have five hours and nineteen minutes until your death.

It’s been a good life.

Hasn’t it?

I mean..

“Let’s go. We can still make it on time.” Lexa says as she closes the door behind her and takes your hand gently to pull you along.

And wow.

It’s been a great life.

“She’s not as murderous as she seems about that curfew by the way.”

Oh.

Curfew.

Not time of death.

When you realize you get to live, you let out a relieved laugh.

She smiles back and squeezes your hand before letting it go.

It tingles in the best way.

“I’m sorry about her.”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry about my mom, she wouldn’t let me out of the house.”

She shakes her head and you both smile at each other.

“Shall we?” She asks.

“We shall.”

The drive over is quick and silent but filled with smiles.

And you just barely manage to avoid several accidents what with your inability to tear your eyes away from hers.

“How long have you been driving, Clarke?” She asks with a cheeky grin as you both exit the car.

“Haha very funny. I was just distracted.” You respond as you meet her at the front of your car.

She’s quiet for a moment and her eyes follow her knuckles which trail along the bonnet of your car.

It’s almost a whisper when she speaks. “What were you distracted by?”

Your heart stops.

“Clarke!”

Your heart promptly starts and slams into your ribs as you drop your phone with a clatter at your shock.

Miller jogs up to you with Bryan following at a more leisurely pace.

You place a hand on your chest while trying to catch a breath and turn to him, shooting a quick glance to Lexa.

She looks just as startled as you are and a flush rises up her neck.

Her neck.

God.

“Hey. You’re here!”

“Yup. Yeah. Here we are!” You force out as you bend over to grab your phone.

And oh..

She’s wearing shorts instead of her usual jeans and her legs are so very long and..

“Good to see you outside of Statistics, Lexa.”

You jolt up.

“You as well, Nathan.”

But you can’t take your eyes off her legs.

“Clarke.” Bryan greets with a clap to your shoulder. “Nice to officially meet you, Lexa. Really glad Clarke invited you along.” He drags out sending you a wink.

And how did you think you would get out of this unscathed?

Bryan must have been ecstatic when Miller mentioned it.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Bryan.”

Miller begins to lead the way and you follow, mortified and avoiding the knowing looks Bryan keeps sending you.

“Have you done this before?” Lexa asks as she looks around at the throngs of people entering the stadium.

And her breath against your ear as she leans in is warm.

So warm.

“Yeah, once.”

She nods but keeps looking around fascinated.

You find your section and get into the mercifully short line for snacks where it quickly becomes apparent to you that Lexa will like nothing here.

“Sorry.” You say as you gesture at the menu.

“For what?” She asks as she makes her way past you to the counter and orders a hot dog.

Wait what?

“Want one?”

“Umm yes but..”

But before you can question this bizarro world that you’re in, she has two hot dogs in her hand and is walking off throwing a casual, “Coming?” over her shoulder.

“Thank you.” You say as you catch up to her at your seats.

Because she paid.

She paid.

And that’s a date-like thing?

Right?

“You’re very welcome, Clarke.”

It becomes apparent, very quickly, that Lexa is in her element.

A quick explanation by Bryan who leans enthusiastically over Miller to indoctrinate her and she’s hooked.

Her eyes are bright and her smile is wide and she’s looks absolutely exhilarated and you can’t take your eyes off her.

You’re obvious it seems, when she leans over and grins at you.

“You’re missing it, Clarke! They’re doing wheelies!”

What.

A.

Dork.

You’re dizzy with her.

Dizzy for her.

Dizzy in her.

She has a favourite.

A truck by the name of Rawr Rider that comes complete with painted teeth and a fearsome tail and you suspect they’ve take some liberties with their attempt to make it resemble a dinosaur.

The driver is more impressive than the truck itself standing proudly at five foot nothing which the announcers make sure to mention. Her hair is dyed green and spiked and you spend a good amount of time wondering at the sharpness of the strands.

But Lexa has wholly thrown herself into supporting her having started by excitedly leaning forward to now jumping out of her seat and cheering whenever she does something exciting.

When the freestyle section comes around, which apparently is the most exciting part judging by everyone’s eagerness, Rawr Rider is a strong contender to win the event.

You know this only because Lexa has made sure to inform you.

But you’re excited for it too.

Lexa is glowing more and more and you’re gladly along for the ride.

“Clarke.” She gasps as she grabs a hold of your hand. “It’s her turn!”

You don’t respond.

How can you?

A thrill shoots through your body as you intertwine your fingers and when you finally tear your eyes away from your joined hands and meet her eyes.

Wow.

She’s looking at you.

She’s looking at you and she looks so alive.

You can’t help it.

You can’t help it.

Your eyes fall to her lips.

Her parted full lips.

And the crowd roars.

But you don’t care.

You don’t care because you’re leaning in.

And she’s leaning in.

And when your lips meet it’s chaotic.

You’re vaguely aware of the cheering around you.

You’re vaguely aware of the hard seat below you.

You’re vaguely aware of the smell of hotdogs and popcorn.

Because it’s peaceful when your lips meet.

And you’re entirely aware of the sound of the ragged breath she pulls in.

You’re entirely aware of the feeling of her hand as it trails lightly over your thigh and settles for gripping your shirt.

You’re entirely aware of the smell that is Lexa, heady, sweet, intoxicating.

You’re kissing her.

You.

Her.

Kissing.

And when you pull apart naturally, softly, slowly.

It’s quiet.

So quiet.

And you breathe in.

And she breathes in.

And she tilts her head just so.

And you have no choice.

You kiss her again.

And again.

And again.

 

And again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies. Thank you always for the love and feedback you extend to me. Not the longest chap but not the shortest either, I suppose. Excuse the cliffy. I'm very tired and about to take a very long nap after I post. Post post (haha). Wish me good dreams. See you on the next chap!

You’re a coward.

That’s what you are.

Plain and simple.

No frills.

Coward.

Because you kissed a girl at a Monster Truck Show.

And she kissed you back.

And you kissed each other again and again.

But when you pulled apart, you wouldn’t look at her.

Your breaths were impossible to come by.

And you couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Look at her.

But she was looking at you.

God.

She was looking at you.

But you wouldn’t reciprocate.

And you couldn’t make yourself say a word.

Crippled.

But the show was over quickly.

And you all walked out silently.

You registered Bryan asking how Lexa liked the show.

And you registered Lexa’s one word reply of ‘Fine.’

And you registered the silence that came after.

But you couldn’t make yourself look at Miller or Bryan as you parted.

And you couldn’t make yourself look at Lexa the whole drive to her house.

And when she hesitated after she opened the door and spoke, you only answered ‘Yeah’ to her ‘Thank you, Clarke. I enjoyed the show.’

And horrible horrible coward that you are, you drove off the moment she shut the door.

It’s been twenty four hours since you drove off.

It’s been twenty two hours since she texted you. ‘Can we talk?’

And your response...

Nothing.

Because you’re a coward.

You have nine hours before school starts tomorrow.

And you have no idea what to do.

You’re bi.

You know this.

You can’t deny it.

You’re attracted to Lexa. 

You know this.

You can’t deny it.

But.

It’s all so fast.

And you guess..you’re just not ready.

It’s all so fast and you just came to terms with everything.

And you’re just not ready.

You’re not ready.

And maybe you’re not as open as you thought you were.

To yourself.

To everything.

But you know it’s not wrong.

It’s not.

But.

It’s so new.

And so strong.

And you’re so completely overwhelmed.

And you could explain this all to her.

But you can’t.

Because even the thought of speaking to her makes you struggle to breathe.

You’re not ready.

You’re not.

You...

Your sleep sucks and you’re entirely sure that someone, Fate, God, Hades, has it out for you.

Because nine hours feels like nine minutes.

And you sluggishly rush to get ready and get to school on time.

You make it with two minutes to spare before the bell.

And whoever has it out for you is cruel because those are longest two minutes of your life.

Your heart starts at every person who passes you.

Lexa?

No. Jock dude.

Lexa? No. Eyepatch girl.

Lexa? No. Octavia.

Shit.

Octavia grabs you by the arm and squints at you. “Clarke. You either come to lunch today or I end you."

Weren’t you just thinking last week how good of a friend she was?

You take it back.

“I mean it Clarke, I’m looking out for you. I don’t want you worried about your douchebag of an ex or anyone else for that matter.”

Well crap.

You take back your take back.

What can you say?

It’s not like you can admit that you’ve been having secret library lunches with Lexa who you took to a Monster Truck show on Saturday and kissed four times before you proceeded to ignore.

So you nod pathetically and she holds your eye contact for what seems like hours before she nods and lets you go.

The bells rings.

Fuck damnit.

Where was it when you needed it?

You try to will your classes to go slowly because you know you have to see her.

Lexa.

You know you have to talk to her.

You just...

Need time.

A little time to breathe.

But.

English arrives in the blink of an eye.

And what can you do?

Your reckoning is here.

But you’re wrong.

It’s worse.

Lexa slips into class mere seconds before the bell rings and you’re so focused on her that you almost miss the words that come out of Mr. Kane’s mouth.

Essay.

Due.

Turn in.

Oh God.

Oh God.

You didn’t write it.

You completely forgot.

You can’t breathe.

Your classmates are shuffling up to put their essays in the designated pile.

And you..

You can’t breathe.

You’ve always been on top of your studies.

Always been.

Oh God.

You’re going to fail.

You’re not going to go to college.

You messed it all up.

And you..

She’s looking at you.

She’s on her way back to her desk from turning in her essay and she’s looking at you.

And you know she knows.

Because you must look devastated.

She looks confused.

And worried.

But Mr. Kane speaks then, “Alright! Let’s get settled. Got a treat for you today!”

She turns and sits and you lose your tether.

You have nothing.

Mr. Kane’s treat is a short story.

Funny and entirely for discussion.

No homework.

You can’t breathe.

The class clears out and you sit there numbly.

You watch as he erases the blackboard and turns to you finally. “Clarke?”

“I didn’t do it.” You confess.

He frowns.

“The essay. I didn’t do it.” You clarify.

He shakes his head, “I..why?”

“I forgot.”

“I see. Clarke do you want to speak to..”

“What can I do? I can’t. I can’t fail.”

He steps forward to you, “You won’t.” He reassures. “But Clarke, is there something wrong because?”

“I can turn it in late?”

“For a reduced grade, yes but Clarke..if you need some help or someone to talk to..”

“I’ll be back today. With my essay. I just..thanks.”

He shakes his head, “No thanks needed but maybe you should consider..”

“I’ll be back. Today.” You rush.

You don’t want to talk.

To him.

To anyone.

You rush out of class.

You’re going to have to skip lunch.

And maybe Physics.

God.

You’re moving so fast through the hallway that you don’t see her until it’s too late.

Lexa.

You bump right into her and she drops the book she has in her hand and turns to you bewildered.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You bend over, grab her book, and hold it out to her.

She doesn’t react.

Her eyes are wide.

“Lexa..I..I..” You’re heart stops when you see a movement in your periphery.

You know that figure.

You look over.

Finn.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t breathe.

He’s looking at you.

You’re looking at him.

He looks..

Terrible.

“Clarke.” Lexa says gently.

You snap your eyes over to her.

You can’t breathe.

She’s looking at him.

She turns to you.

Her hand is on your elbow.

You can’t breathe.

“Clarke.”

You can’t breathe.

You feel yourself moving but it feels so surreal.

But all of a sudden it’s quiet.

You’re in a classroom.

You’re sitting on a desk.

And God.

Lexa.

Haven’t you done this before?

“Breathe Clarke.”

You do.

Slowly.

Surely.

You look at her.

Feel her hands on your arms.

Feel her warmth.

Feel her.

And you breathe.

You look around.

Latin posters.

At this rate you’re going to make your way in panic attacks through all of the foreign language classes.

And Latin fits after all for how dead you feel inside.

You don’t.

Feel dead that is.

Your chest hurts too much for that.

You’re just being dramatic and the joke presented itself.

You should probably get out of your head because she’s speaking.

“Clarke.”

You look up and make eye contact with her.

She nods, apparently satisfied that you’ve calmed down and starts to move away but you grab her hands instinctively.

She darts her eyes to your hands and then back to you.

You realize belatedly with a blush that she’s standing between your legs as you sit on the desk.

She clears her throat. “I’m sorry about Finn..”

“I don’t wanna talk about Finn.” You interrupt.

Because you don’t.

He scared you but that’s a problem for another day.

Another Clarke.

This Clarke.

You.

Want to talk to Lexa.

Because you’re a coward.

And you owe her a conversation.

“I kissed you.” You say.

Her eyes go wide and you feel a slight pull from the hands you hold.

You hold firm. “On Saturday. I kissed you. Again. I kissed you again.”

“Clarke..” She starts.

“No..” You shake your head, “Lexa no..I wanted..I wanted to..”

She sucks in a breath at the same time you do.

And it seems like you both hold your breath for endless moments before you both release your breaths.

“I like girls.” You confess.

Not much of a confession maybe given you’ve put your face hole against her face hole on more than one occasion but you want to be clear.

God.

Kissing is weird.

But then you think about how much you enjoyed it with her.

You need to focus.

“I’m..I’m bi and I guess I knew before..but at the same time..I didn’t and..” You suck in a breath. “I just..this isn’t a game or a joke to me. I just wanted you to know that.”

“I wouldn’t..I didn’t think that, Clarke.”

“It’s not an experiment either!” You rush to explain because she’s absolving you too easily. “I just..I wanted to..Okay?”

“Okay.” She says.

It’s final and understanding but it’s questioning too.

“I’m scared.” You say.

Because it’s all you can think to say.

She’s quiet for a long moment in the wake of your words. “I know.” She finally says.

And the way she says it. God.

The way she says it.

You think she does know.

You wonder if she’s scared too.

She smiles.

A small knowing, sad smile.

You love it.

Because she looks so kind.

So sweet.

So understanding.

And she’s all those things and so much so much more.

“Friends?” She asks.

But it’s all wrong.

You want to be her friend but..you want..you want..

“No not friends..I don’t..I mean..I want to be friends but..Can we..just be us?”

You’re aware of how that sounds.

You are.

But it must sound horrible to her because she frowns.

She honest to goodness frowns and you don’t know how to fix it.

“Lexa..” You trail off, at a loss.

She looks down at your joined hands for a long moment, “What does being ‘Us’ entail?” She asks quietly.

God.

You don’t know.

You just know you want her and that ‘friends’ sounds so banal and anything else is terrifying.

You trail your thumb across her fingers, more calmly than you feel, as you contemplate how to answer her.

“I don’t know.” You finally admit.

You look up at her and her eyes are wide, vulnerable, curious.

And God.

You like her so much.

“I just know that I enjoy spending time with you..I I..like you a lot and I just..wanna take it slow. Figure it out together. I mean..if you..if you want to.” You finish, heart beating a million miles an hour.

She’s quiet for a long moment before she breathes in gently.

So gently.

And then.

“Okay.”

You don’t know what that means.

But then again you don’t really know what you mean when you say, ‘Let’s be us.’

But she has a small smile on her face as she looks at you and you think she’s giving you way more than you deserve.

“Okay.” You echo.

You want to kiss her.

You do.

You catch her eyes and hold your breath for a long moment.

She doesn’t look away.

She looks straight at you and you feel naked under her gaze but at the same time your body is humming and your blood is rushing and you feel so alive.

So much with the way she’s looking at you.

So you do it.

You lean in.

Slowly.

Surely.

“Clarke..” She whispers.

“I want to.” You whisper back, “Do you want to?”

She kisses you.

Hard.

So hard that you nearly fall over in the onslaught.

Your head is spinning immediately and you release her hands in favour of grabbing at her shirt.

The bell rings.

You think.

You’re not sure of anything.

All you know is that you’re glad for the desk.

Because there’s no way.

No chance that you would have remained on your feet.

As it is, your body is jelly and the only thing you can feel is her lips on yours and the fabric of her shirt under your tightly clenched fingers.

She pulls back.

You feel like you’ve been dunked into a pool of ice.

You’re panting and you’re still holding onto her like she’s your only grip onto reality.

“Sorry.” She gasps.

You’re not.

You pull her gently and kiss her sweetly to let her know.

She softly responds before pulling away once again.

You grip harder onto her shirt and you hardly realize that she’s doing the same.

Her hand comes up gently.

Touches your cheek.

And you feel her move closer.

And her lips.

On your forehead.

God.

You like her so much.

“You should go.” You say as you reluctantly release her with one hand to look at your wristwatch.

“Your essay.” She says.

“I’ll write it at lunch.” You respond.

“Can I help?”

You shake your head. “No. But thank you. I need…I should do it myself. But I..wouldn’t..I wouldn’t mind..”

“I’ll be there.” She promises softly.

“Thank you.” You repeat.

“Anytime, Clarke.”

You shoot a text to Octavia.

Because at this point you’re sure that if you’re MIA for lunch with no communication, she will raze the school in an attempt to find you.

You’re the first to leave your Calculus class and your teacher shakes his head the way he did when you came in late and he gave you a tardy at the beginning of the period.

You run straight to the library.

By the time you spot Lexa coming in, you’re already one paragraph in.

Thank God for Mr. Kane and what you thought were stupid pointless assignments on the thesis statement and outline for the essay because you’re basically plugging and playing right now.

He even had the class do their own citations and you dutifully copy all of your previous work leaving yourself only the bullshit in the middle.

If there’s anything you’re good at, it’s bullshit.

Your fingers are flying away on your laptop and you’re doing your very best to ignore Lexa as she sits down beside you.

You can see her looking at you in your periphery.

“Hi.” You mumble out.

She smiles.

Not now beautiful angel.

You frown and focus harder.

She chuckles.

And..what were you typing.

Damn her.

Damn her smile.

Damn her laugh.

Damn the fact that your heart rate is constantly elevated around her.

Elevated!

That’s what you were typing.

The elders’ elevated position blah blah blah.

Not that that’s what you actually write.

Your fingers are far more disciplined and you’re fairly sure you’ve seen Lexa take a peek or twenty at your screen so they’re on their best behavior.

Also there’s the thing where you want to pass this class.

In conclusion, your mind wanders somewhat as you type.

Especially when she pulls out her lunch and some of your focus is drawn to her mouth as it moves around her food.

Christ.

But.

You actually manage to wrangle out a discourse and reach a conclusion.

“Done?” She asks.

You look at your wristwatch.

Seven minutes to spare.

“Wow. I didn’t expect to finish so fast.” You say.

“May I?” She asks.

“Uhh.”

“To proofread. Sometimes it’s hard to catch your own mistakes when you’ve just written an essay. It’s why I..” She trails off as she pulls your laptop gently over to herself.

You watch her.

She’s lovely.

She mouths the words as she reads them and you entire attention is tuned into her micro expressions.

A little frown followed by a quick addition of a comma.

A quirk of her head followed by the correction of a run on sentence.

Small smiles and nods at what you hope are good points.

And then, she’s done.

Much to your relief because it seemed like the edits weren’t extensive despite your rush and you still have two minutes to print it.

Much to your chagrin as well though because you were enjoying watching her.

That’s less creepy than it sounds, right?

“It’s good, Clarke. You’re decision to paint Mary as an antagonist is..interesting and quite different from your point of view in class if I recall correctly.”

You blush. Of course you do. You remember passionately arguing with her about Mary’s intentions in the story. And you remember the gay lightning bolt that hit you. “I guess I came around.” You manage.

She looks down and shakes her head, “It’s funny, my essay argues the opposite of yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She blushes and smiles softly, “I guess I came around as well.”

God. Is anything gayer than this moment?

“Can I?” She breathes, leaning in.

You nod. She kisses you.

Yup.

This is gayer than the previous moment.

Literally.

And how glad you are that it is.

The bell rings.

You groan.

She pulls away with a grin.

“I need to print this.” You sigh as you stand up on unsteady legs.

“Over there.” She gestures at the printer/copier along the wall. “You didn’t get a chance to eat.”

“Huh.” You say walking your laptop over, “Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” 

“I promise.” You add, when you catch her rolling her eyes.

She stands beside you, zipping up her backpack while you type in the access password.

“You’re gonna be late.” You say.

She shrugs nonchalantly before she leans against the nearby bookcase to watch you.

You fuck up the password.

You can’t do anything with her watching you like that.

How hard can it be to type in Booksarefun1234!

“Uhh.” You struggle to speak to cover up your ineptitude. “Thanks for reading through it. I was such a moron not to do it I uh..I just..forgot..because..well there was umm..other stuff on my mind..”

You don’t register the silence that follows your words until your fifth try at the password which is finally successful.

You look up.

She’s looking down and shaking her head.

“Lexa..”

“I uhh..me too. The only reason I remembered was because of my proofreading alarm. I uhh like to set an alarm the day an essay is due to get up and do final edits but well..I hadn’t written it and so..it was a hectic morning.”

“Oh.” You say stunned.

Your essay prints out and you pick it up off the tray and move to staple it together, heart pounding all the way.

“I’m sorry.” You say with your back turned to her because..

Is she saying that she was upset?

Of course she was upset.

You kissed her and ditched her but..

Maybe something else got in the way of her writing her essay.

Not you being horrible and ignoring her.

You feel your hand at her elbow.

“It was my fault.” You say when she turns you around.

She looks caught between a smile and a frown and God.

You’re confused too.

“It was my fault Clarke, I didn’t write my essay. But I got it done this morning. No problem.”

“But I..this weekend..I mean..Saturday..I..you..I didn’t treat you very well..”

“No stop. I mean..I was..I was worried that I was..that I maybe pushed you into something you didn’t..”

“God no, Lex. You were perfect..I just..”

“Yeah..”

“Yeah..”

The warning bell rings.

“You should go. You’re gonna be late and you were late this morning and..”

You ramble because she’s late again.

Because of you.

Because you..

“We should go.” She says gently as she pulls you along. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Worry about getting that to Mr. Kane. I’ll uhh..I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah..” You manage.

“Yeah.” She smiles as you part at the library doors and she begins to walk backwards to her class.

You watch her, dopey smile on your face until she disappears.

God.

She’s just…perfect.

And you’re late to Physics.

Damn.

You rush to class and when it lets out, you take a detour past Mr. Kane’s classroom on your way to ASL.

“Here it is.” You say as you maneuver your way past the students leaving his class and hand him your essay.

“Huh..that was fast. Did you skip class to do this?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“Nope. Your material last week prepared me really well for this essay.”

Whatever.

You can be a suck up for today.

Especially when it’s true.

He leans over with a red pen and writes on your first page. “I’ll only take five off because you got it to me so fast but Clarke, if you need to talk to someone..”

“Thanks Mr. Kane. See you tomorrow!” You exclaim as you dart out.

He’s trying, you know.

And you feel guilty.

But if he sends you to a guidance counselor, your mom will be the first to hear about it.

And somehow you don’t think temporary gay insanity will fly in her court.

The rest of your day is great until the weight of the English Essay is off your back and you realize that you have lab reports, quizzes, and another essay, this time in Art History, coming up later this week.

Efficiency is your middle name that night.

Not really, Elizabeth still is.

But you’re efficient.

Even though you spend at least an hour of your time thinking of Lexa’s blush.

 

On Tuesday, you’re early and refreshed and oh is that Lexa?

“Hi!” You greet, overly enthusiastically.

“Oh..hi Clarke.” She stops in her tracks from where she was walking past you.

How do you greet her?

Do you hug her?

Do you..

Is that your hand that you’re holding out?

Oh yes.

It is.

You’re holding out your hand.

She’s staring at it like she’s confused.

But she takes it.

Oh thank God she takes it.

And you shake it awkwardly.

“Good morning, Lexa.”

She smiles and shakes her head and you may just save this with awkward charm. “Good morning, Clarke.”

“Clarke!” Octavia shouts as she comes up.

Oh no.

She stops in her tracks and all you can do is watch as her eyes narrow as she takes in you and Lexa’s hand shake.

You let go and clear your throat.

“Lexa.” She greets.

“Hello, Octavia.”

“Clarke.” She directs to you.

“Uh yeah..hi.”

“Did you two just meet or something?”

“Nope.” Your ears are red.

You can feel them.

“Okay..anyway. Lunch. Today. No excuses. No more skipping.” She turns to Lexa, “She’s been avoiding the cafeteria for over a week now and I just wanna make sure she’s…come to think of it, I haven’t seen you at lunch in a while either.”

“Uhh.” Lexa stumbles.

“But Clarke is who I’m worried about. Clarke? Lunch today?”

“Yeah. Yup. Yes.”

She cocks her head.

“I mean it! I’ll be there.”

“Cool. See ya Clarke. Good to see you Lexa.” She says in parting before she chases after a group of her teammates.

You swallow and turn to Lexa, nervous as always in her presence. “I guess lunch with Octavia..if..that if you want to..”

“Do you want to? I mean..are you ready?” She asks, sweet.

So fucking sweet.

“Yeah. I think so. As I’ll ever be I guess.” 

“Clarke, if you’re not..”

“No, I am..I want to..I mean I’d rather be at the library with you..” You blush but she doesn’t run away so you suck in a breath and continue, “But I.uhh..I should probably face it all sometime and I understand if you..”

“I’ll be there.” She says.

You smile.

She smiles.

The world smiles.

Whatever.

You can personify the damn world if you want.

You have the gay right.

Mr. Kane introduces the next novel in class later.

You read the first two chapters last night in your efficiency kick and so you zone out as the class reads together and engages in light discussion.

The subject of your daydreams is once again Lexa’s neck.

This time, you have the advantage of knowing your gayness.

And what an enhancement it is because now..

Now there’s directions you can go in.

For example.

Kissing.

Of her neck specifically.

The surface area of her neck would be diameter times length.

And given the length..

You’re seriously considering buying real estate.

A buzz.

**Finn: Can we talk?**

Fuck.

What the fuck!

Does Finn have some kind of ‘Clarke thinking about Lexa neck sensor’ that compels him to communicate with you when you’re at your busiest.

Your second thought.

Well.

Your second thought is terror.

Because he really did look terrible yesterday.

And you have no idea what to expect from him given his posts on instagram.

So you do what comes naturally.

You ignore the text.

No big deal.

Right? 

Back to Lexa’s neck.

The bell rings. Come on!

There’s no way it’s been a full class period yet.

But it has and life is cruel.

Lexa hesitates as you pack up and she smiles sweetly as you join her by the door.

“See you at lunch.” She says.

You can’t wait.

“See you.” You softly respond.

You don’t see her later.

Finn is waiting outside of your Calculus class.

He smiles.

“Found you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You glance at Finn.
> 
> He’s got his fists clenched and given the fact that you kissed Lexa while dating him…this confrontation is more than a little personal.
> 
> “What’s it to you?” He retorts.
> 
> Lexa hesitates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my sweet sweet darlings. Life is weird and strange. I'm thankful always for the lovely words you leave me on this story and I'm so honoured to have you read me. This chapter comes at you live from the aftermath of catastrophic hurricane flooding. That's right, my current place of residence, though it changes frequently, is Houston. I'm well. Many aren't. Was out and about today helping out. There's a silver lining in all the crap and it's that people can be so good.

“Jesus Fucking Christ on a precarious tightrope!”

“Huh?”

You’re actually really proud of that exclamation even though Finn looks confused.

And oh yeah, there it is, temporarily stymied by your momentary pride, it’s your fear.

Because Holy Shit, he’s kind of a creep.

“Look, can we talk?” He grabs your arm and you freeze.

He’s gentle as he pulls you but you can’t speak, can’t move.

His gentleness is miles away.

His confused look is in the next state.

The way your heart beats slowly but quickly and painfully is here.

Now.

The way a slow chill descends from your frozen jaw to the back of your neck down your spine is now.

Your lungs struggle to keep up with how fast you’re moving which is not at all.

You can see people watching you as Finn guides you.

Whispers.

Can they not see you need help?

Can someone help you?

Can someone please..

“Princess, look at me.”

You look at him but your attention is captured by your surroundings.

You’re in the football locker room.

In the football building they’d built three years ago to commemorate the fact that the football team wasn’t the worst in the district.

Come to think of it, you’d been to a game at the worst school in the district and they had a football building.

“Clarke.”

“Finn.” You startle, coming back to reality.

Well.

This reality at least.

The reality where your creepy ex-boyfriend dragged you to a building halfway across the school campus to do God knows what.

“Can we talk?”

You back away from him slowly. "About what Finn? I just wanna go to lunch.”

“Wait!” He exclaims, throwing out a hand that slams into the wall right beside you.

You flinch.

“Clarke.” He breathes.

He’s so close.

You screw your eyes shut and prepare yourself.

“Clarke.” He repeats.

You look up.

He’s on the other side of the room practically pressed up against a locker.

You suck in a breath.

“Are you..are you scared of me?” He asks.

And God.

Your heart wrenches.

He sounds absolutely miserable.

You didn’t want this.

You don’t want him to be miserable.

But.

But.

There’s something you’re forgetting.

Oh.

Yeah.

Okay.

So.

You need to think this through.

You feel bad for him but it’s not your fault.

It’s fucked up right?

That you feel bad for making him realize that he scares you.

Because you shouldn’t right?

Because you’re the one that’s scared.

His feelings.

His ignorance.

His actions.

You can’t be held accountable for all that?

Right.

You can’t.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“Am I scaring you?” He asks.

You nod.

You don’t want to get him angry.

It feels like he’s a different person.

You have no idea what he’s capable of.

“Clarke.” He sounds out. “I didn’t want that. I never wanted that.”

“Me either.” You say.

Louder and stronger than you thought you would.

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about scaring you. I’m sorry about the Instagram stuff. I’m sorry about the facebook stuff..”

“Facebook?”

Facebook?

Come to think of it, when was the last time you logged in?

Does Lexa have a Facebook?

“..and the twitter stuff, and the one song on SoundCloud..”

What in the fuck?

“What in the fuck, Finn!”

“I know. I know.”

You sigh and try to push away equally curious and horrified thoughts of what his song on sound cloud is.

“Okay. You’ve apologized. What do you want from me now?”

“I’ll stop all that.”

“Great okay. What do you want now?”

“Nothing I..I just wanted to talk this out..”

“It’s talked out. I don’t really know what there is to say.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Are you okay?” And you hate that you’re asking him this.

You hate that you care.

But you can’t help it.

“I’ve been in a low place but…some people came up to me when I got back to school and they were saying stuff.”

Oh God is this about Lexa?

Do people know?

What if..what if they start talking about her?

You couldn’t.

You can’t.

“..I mean it Clarke, I didn’t tell them to say that stuff.”

“Oh about me?” You realize belatedly.

“Yeah I told them to stop. I didn’t think this would happen.”

“You didn’t think that there would be consequences to posting negative stuff about me on social media?”

Go sassy you!

“Yeah. I guess I just didn’t think at all.”

“No I guess you didn’t.”

“I’m in love with you, Clarke.”

Yikes.

But actually.

God.

It hurts to see his face.

And despite his childish actions, you can tell he means it.

In his own twisted way.

And you..well you’re not really sure how you feel.

“And I knew you would never love me like I loved you. Because you know..you’re the way you are.”

What?

“What? Are you trying to insult me?”

“No! No! I uhh I just mean you know..you’re kinda distant with everyone. You’re there for everyone but you never really let anyone in.”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s coming out all wrong. And I..” He gestures at the space between you along the benches, “I still loved you as you but then…this semester..”

“Finn..what are you saying?”

He’s quiet for a moment before he straightens and takes a deep breath, “It was sudden that’s all. For me. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you at all but I never did and that’s fine. I fell for you and it’s been tough to get over it. That’s all.”

And you want to tell him that it’s bullshit and that he knew you and that of course your friends know you and that he’s just trying to deflect and that..

“Anyway. All that doesn’t excuse me being an asshole on social media. I’ll fix it. Promise.”

You don’t say anything. You’re not really sure what to say.

The bell rings.

Oh God!

You missed lunch!

Everything is happening so quickly.

And Lexa..

God.

And Octavia.

But Lexa.

“I gotta go.” You say as you rush out of the building.

And it’s awkward given that he has to rush out with you because you’re both ridiculously far away from everything and the bell just rang.

But you rush together five feet apart and just as you get to the main building.

“Clarke!”

It’s Lexa.

God.

It’s Lexa.

You stop in your tracks and you barely realize Finn’s done the same as she rushes over.

“Hey. Hey. Are you okay?” She tuts as she gets to you.

You manage a nod in response.

She seems so upset and you’re upset that she’s upset and you’re upset that you didn’t get to see her at lunch and you’re..

“What the heck is your deal dude? She broke up with you!”

Has Lexa ever said ‘dude’ in her life?

You’re willing to bet not given how odd it sounds and how her mouth grimaces in protest.

Wait.

Is she yelling at Finn?

Well not yelling per se.

More dangerously talking at him.

You glance at Finn.

He’s got his fists clenched and given the fact that you kissed Lexa while dating him…this confrontation is more than a little personal.

“What’s it to you?” He retorts.

Lexa hesitates.

She looks at you for a moment and frowns before she sighs.

“It doesn’t matter what it is to me. It matters that she’s a person who broke up with you. Who doesn’t want you around. Who’s afraid of you because of your erratic behavior. Who’s had to deal with an entire school talking about her because you pretty much declared it open season on her.”

Finn visibly recoils before he sighs as well.

“I’m sorry Princess.” He directs at you. “I won’t bother you again.”

He sends a long look Lexa’s way, “I just wanted to apologize to her that’s all. I wasn’t..I was selfish..that’s all.”

And then he’s gone.

Shoulders hunched all the way as he walks quickly to his class.

“I’m sorry.” Lexa says.

Wait.

What?

“I shouldn’t have come in here all mighty like I know what’s best for you.”

“Lexa.”

“If you want to fix things with..”

“Lexa no. I really don’t.”

“Okay. I just shouldn’t have run in to help you when you didn’t need it. I just..you didn’t show up at lunch and we saw him yesterday and..”

“You’re right.” You say as you grab her wandering hands.

Her face falls.

Oh God.

You didn’t mean it that way.

Okay words Clarke, not internal panicky thoughts, “I mean..I didn’t need any help, but I wanted you..I wanted you here..I want you here now.”

She focuses on you and like magic, her furrowed brow lifts and your heart flips.

“Okay.” She says. Like it’s information she’s filling away and God.

You like her.

You raise a hand up and touch it tentatively to her neck.

Then her face.

Her eyes flutter shut and God.

You pull her closer and sink into the arms that come up to surround you.

And there in her warmth, you believe in all sorts of magic.

And you’re okay.

More than.

 

Wednesday is a good day because as much as you didn’t enjoy your confrontation with Finn, at least having it means that you have nothing looming over you.

Besides your Art History Essay due Friday.

And also your lab report in Biology due tomorrow.

And you have a quiz in Psychology later today.

But.

Besides all that, things should be looking up. Right?

“Don’t you think so Clarke?”

Huh.

What?

Oh yeah.

You’re in English and the whole class is looking at you and maybe you should be listening and not writing Lexa’s name in different fonts all over your notebook.

“Umm yes, I would agree so.” You answer Mr. Kane as you try to surreptitiously flip the page on your notebook.

The class ripples with laughter and your eyes are drawn to Lexa’s somewhat amused frown.

“Clarke, I just asked you whether you think that the character of the hidden man wears a thick coat to cover up the bedazzled tutu he’s always wearing.”

Oh whoops.

The hidden man is the villain in the novel and is actually pretty terrifying in your opinion as he reflects all of the other character’s fears. 

And Mr. Kane just made a fool out of you.

Well, you made a fool out of yourself by agreeing blindly.

“Why don’t you take over reading where Jasper left off?” He says slyly.

Well crap.

You would but your novel isn’t even open and you have no clue what’s going on and you know Mr. Kane is well aware.

So you do what you have to.

“Actually sir, I don’t understand why everybody’s laughing.”

The class goes dead silent and you see Lexa’s well defined brow rise in your periphery.

What a brow.

“Clarke?” Mr. Kane inquires.

“Well, the hidden man plays on everyone’s fears.

Tommy for example is afraid of the dark and the hidden man always brings darkness with him but the hidden man’s coat is also described as wet in..” You try to sneakily open your book and flip through the pages.

Everyone is watching.

You don’t succeed at being sneaky but you do succeed at finding the page you’re looking for, “..chapter two page thirty three when he finds Tommy after school. And if you’ll remember in chapter one, it was mentioned that Tommy had a near drowning accident when he was younger!”

“Clarke, what’s your point.” Mr. Kane cuts impatiently.

“Sasha. Sasha is my point. If the hidden man embodies physical manifestations..”

“Yeah but Sasha is afraid of being stuck..” Zoe cuts in.

You shake your head and continue, “Yes. But also, her mom says at the beginning of the chapter that Sasha quit dance before they moved away from the city..”

“Clarke..” Mr. Kane starts.

“Why did she quit dance?”

“Clarke..”

“It stands to reason that something made her quit, something she’s afraid of..and since the hidden man plays on fear, why wouldn’t he be wearing a tutu!”

Murmurs ripples through the class room and your eyes travel to Lexa only to meet a grin.

“Alright Griffin.  Less cheek, more paying attention.”

“She kind of has a point.” Jasper mumbles.

“If you’d like to support that point, you’re welcome to write about it in your essay. You too, Clarke.”

A chorus of ooohs starts up and is he testing you?

Well.

You’re not in debate for nothing.

Welcome to the bullshit express Mr. Kane.

“I will sir.” You say confidently and a ruckus ensues.

“Miss Griffin.” He calls out louder than the rest of the class. “Why don’t you pick up where Mr. Jordan left off in the reading?”

Damn it.

Damn him and his smarts.

Sterling has to help you find the page the class is on and for the first time, you hear Lexa’s laugh ring out just as loud as all the others in the classroom.

You’re standing outside the cafeteria when Octavia walks up.

“Planning on ditching me again?”

“No. Nope. No Ma’am didn’t even cross my mind.”

Octavia rolls her eyes and links her arm with yours before leading you in.

You join her after you split temporarily, you to collect the greasy giant slice of pizza you’ve been craving and her to grab six tacos, as she sits next to Lincoln.

You nervously sit next to Lexa who already has her spread out and her book open.

“You okay?” She murmurs.

You nod.

There are a lot of people in the cafeteria and they are staring and whispering but somehow it feels different from all the whispering that’s been the backdrop to your life for the past two weeks and you can’t place it.

It’s..weird.

You turn away from them to catch Lexa’s look of disdain as she looks away from your pizza and back to her book.

Rude.

You love it.

“Do you have something to say about my lunch?” You instigate.

She rolls her eyes but keeps them on her book as she adorns a small smile. “It’s not the healthiest option is it?”

You scoff, faux offended, “Umm remember when you scarfed that hot dog down on Saturday?”

She blushes and you realize your mistake.

Not a mistake really just..your minds are now both on MonsterKiss.™

She clears her throat, “I had no choice, Clarke. You were late..desperate times..desperate measures..”

“That wasn’t my fault..exactly.”

“Regardless, I had no alternate options whereas you..” She pointedly looks at the different lunch lines and their offerings.

“Whatever.” You declare before you raise it superfluously in the air and take a giant bite.

Unfortunately for you, the cheese, with unsuspecting pepperoni in tow, makes a grand escape from the slice itself and engulfs your face.

You attempt to return the globs to the slice and when you chance a glance at her she looks completely horrified. “You’re going to die at seventeen.”

What.

A.

Drama.

Queen.

Actually, come to think of it..what is in these cafeteria pizzas?

“Lexa, we’re so glad you’re back!” Nyko exclaims, mouth full of nuts.

Lincoln nods quietly in acquiescence as he picks through Lexa’s other assortments.

You feel her arm move against yours as she sighs heavily.  

“Speaking of which? Where were you off having lunch?” Octavia asks, in the middle of her third taco.

You feel Lexa stiffen. “Library. Mr. Wallace lets me eat there sometimes.”

“Cool cool. What about you missy, where’ve you been?”

“Uhh..bathroom stall.”

Octavia wrinkles her nose, “That sucks.”

“Actually I learned a lot..like did you know dung beetles..”

“Not at this table. No.” Octavia cuts in.

You pout.

Who are you supposed to share the fruits of your Wikipedia research with?

You look at Lexa.

She keeps her eyes on her book but shakes her head like she can read your mind.

You hope not.

Because you’ve been thinking about her neck a lot lately.

Speaking of which, it looks really snug right now in her button down shirt.

When she makes no reaction to your quick neck thought detour, you think you’re safe.

“What are you reading?” You ask.

“What you should have in class.”

Wow.

She giggles.

Honest to goodness giggles.

“Lexa!” You hiss, haughtily as you struggle not to melt into the table at the sound of her laughter.

“You know, you could be more cooperative in class.” She teases.

And really, you have years of good behavior in class..well you did prior to your dad passing away but you kind of got back into the swing of things in your junior year and yeah you’ve never paid the closest attention but you’ve never had this much trouble either.

You sigh, “I’m distracted I guess.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Thanks.” You respond in the negative with the shake of your head.

Because it would be a little bit of a conflict of interest to talk to Lexa about the fact that her neck and her voice and just her in general have pretty much upended your life.

“You two pal-ed up quick for people who just met the other day.” Octavia states.

“Uhh nope yup yeah yup.” You sound out.

The bell makes itself known, merciful goddess that it is, and saves you from Octavia’s curious look and you give a quick squeeze to Lexa’s hand before launching your half-eaten pizza into the trash and darting out of the cafeteria. 

You’re far more eloquent later at debate practice.

You have to be given that your first competition is next weekend.

You’re excited.

This semester has been a whirlwind and you’re excited to get on the road with your teammates.

Even when a solid ten minutes of research time is dedicated to Roan making you all decide between his two cologne options before Gina finally exclaims that no cologne will cover up the smell of the sweltering bus ride.

She’s right.

You know this from experience of trying to coat yourself in deodorant upon arrival at tournaments.

You suspect that’s the reason the judges are somewhat distanced from the podium.

Roan grumbles and Gina sits back down and you all dive back into the topic with minimal complaint.

No complaint actually because you’re all fucking debate sluts.

 

Thursday is brings rain and gloom.

But inside the English classroom is gay and wonderful and you pay attention to both the class and Lexa’s neck and you answer Mr. Kane’s questions with minimal sass.

You think you’ll walk Lexa to her next class.

That’s not as gay as it sounds right?

Eh who cares?

“Can I talk to you a sec?” You nearly walk right into Zoe in your single minded path to Lexa as the rest of the class streams idly out.

“Umm.” Because what can you say?

Lexa meets your eyes briefly as she walks out and sends you a small lopsided smile.

“Clarke?”

“Yup. Yeah.”

Zoe shifts on her feet, “Well, I guess..you know Finn’s post on Facebook?”

Oh no.

“You know..the apology one?”

Huh?

“Huh?”

“I mean he didn’t tag you in it or anything or say your name but it was clearly about you.”

And all of a sudden, you’re out of patience, “Zoe, what are you trying to tell me?”

“Just that..I’m sorry. I guess I’d kind of made assumptions and after I read the Facebook status, I realized maybe they were unfair.”

You’re floored.

Absolutely fucking floored.

And any semblance of temper you had is gone.

Lost into the fucking abyss.

You must display your rage on your face, because she backs away, “Clarke..”

And you want to speak but you can’t because you’re so mad and..

“Listen anyway. Sorry again.” She sounds out face pale before she darts off.

And if you were in a better mood, maybe you’d revel in the fact that your expression alone sent her running for the hills but you can’t even think properly.

Because Zoe’s not really even Finn's friend.

She’d hung out with him only when there was a group around but they just weren’t close.

Whereas you and her have hung out multiple times and..

God.

For her to talk about you and judge you and the suddenly decide that your character is okay purely based on a Facebook post is the most insulting, ludicrous..

“Clarke. Are you okay?” Mr. Kane hovers worriedly a few desks away.

You sigh.

“Sorry..it’s just..it’s been a weird year so far.”

He hums understandingly. “I certainly can’t say that I miss high school.”

And you can’t help but laugh. “Mr. Kane, you teach at a high school!”

“I do. But it’s different when you’re in it.”

“How?”

“Well. People still talk. That doesn’t change. My students think I don’t know that they talk about me.”

“What do they say?” You ask, suddenly awestruck by the fact that you’re having this conversation.

You’ve never really bothered to speak to a teacher besides Ms. Cartwig and that’s because you’re forced to spend hours with her for debate.

And really she kind of lets you all run amok with minimal coaching.

Of course many teachers have tried talking to you but you were in a horrible place and there was only so much they could do before they ended up sending you to your mother and continuing the hellish cycle you found yourself in after your Dad’s death.

“Well. Different things. That I’m gay because I like a clean classroom and I’m soft spoken. That I’m sad and lonely because I teach English. That I wear diapers and act like a baby in my spare time…”

“What..” You splutter out.

“That’s hardly the strangest thing I’ve heard. The point is..you can let it run you down..”

“Or you can not.” You finish.

“Yeah.”

“I just..I feel like I’ve wasted so much time with some people and they just don’t care and I’m angry but I’m not really sure how much I care either.”

He cocks his head, “I don’t know that time is ever really wasted on people. It’s just invested into them. I think it says more about you that you tried than it does about them who took advantage of you or who let you down in some way.”

“So..”

“So cut your losses. Don’t dwell and just..reinvest. There’s plenty of options out there.”

“That easy huh?”

“No. Not at all. That’s why I don’t miss high school.”

Well fuck.

Mr. Kane is pretty cool though, and you make sure you verbalize it between thank-yous as you walk out.

Don’t dwell, just reinvest.

You’re going to be zen and one with the stock market.

You’re not even angry at all.

Not even a bit.

Not when Myles comes up and makes a shitty apology to you as you head to the cafeteria.

Not when a freshman whose name you think is Charlotte apologizes to you in line for pizza and says she believed in you all along.

And definitely not when two girls stop you just as you are about to get to the table that you see Lexa and Octavia already sitting at.

Two girls who you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before let alone spoken to.

One of them confesses she’s still unsure where she stands on the whole thing because ‘people make social media apologies all the time and how can I be sure he didn’t just do it cause you told on him or something’ and the other one slaps her lightly on the shoulder and says she’s on team Clarke because ‘you just seem nicer that he made out in his ballad on soundcloud’.

You look around in disbelief because it’s just too ridiculous to fathom and God..

The whispers seem louder than ever.

You see three more people making their way towards you and you hear someone call your name from behind you and you just can’t..

You can’t..

Well, you’re fucking livid.

And you have to applaud yourself.

Because you simply stay silent when the world around you is deafening.

When the one of the girls in front of you whispers to the other, “Dude is she spastic or did she not hear what we just said to her?”

When the group of three arrives in front of you and the guy at the helm, Atom you think, speaks up, “Hey Clarke, hope you’re okay after the whole thing with Finn. He’s a real tool..anyway, who are you going to homecoming with?”

You walk away.

You hear your name called and whispered and called and whispered.

“Hey!” a teacher calls as you walk out of the cafeteria.

You’re not supposed to leave the cafeteria during lunch but fuck it, you can only get in trouble if they catch you right.

You run.

“Hey!”

“Let me get her!” That voice is familiar but you’re so so angry.

You don’t care.

You don’t care.

You make a turn.

And another.

You can hear footsteps slamming behind you.

And you’re so mad.

You whirl around and grab at the person before slamming them into the locker and..

Her.

Slamming her into the locker.

Lexa is breathing hard and her eyes are wide and shocked and worried and..

You push her further into the locker and kiss her hard.

Her lips part in a gasp and you lick your way in roughly and pull at her.

Your hands tangle into her hair and the sound of the locker as you push her into it again wakes you up.

And suddenly, you’re realizing that you’re a crazy person who just slammed her into a locker for no reason.

Your head is clearing and you’re pulling back but she grabs at your collar and bites down on your lip and a thrill shoots straight through your core.

And you’ve never felt so untethered.

So wild.

So alive.

You gasp.

You hear some voices coming down the hall.

Lexa pulls back and turns her head away from you to suck in a breath.

“Come on.” She says lowly, much more in control of the situation than you are before she leads you by the hand into a classroom.

You watch as she closes the door behind you and stands still.

The voices of the teachers float by and then it’s quiet again save for the ragged breathing from both of you.

And then, it catches your eye.

“Seriously!” You exclaim, pointing at the French flag that hangs above the door.

Of course you would wind up in a damn language classroom again. “How many freaking language classes are there in this school!?”

Lexa looks confused, “Our school is the premiere language academy in the district. You know that, Clarke.”

Yeah you know that but ugh she’s missing the point.

Probably because it’s not an important one.

“Sorry. I sort of manhandled you.” You sigh out.

You’re genuinely feeling guilty because Lexa is so good and sweet and..

“That’s far from the way I’d let any man ‘handle’ me.”

A fucking sass monster apparently.

“Lexa!” You gasp, genuinely shocked and genuinely delighted.

“Seriously, you don’t have to apologize to me for that..it was..”

You blush.

She blushes.

Fuck.

“You were upset.” She states simply as she approaches you.

Ugh.

“Ugh. Yeah. Just dumb people being dumb.”

She frowns.

You elaborate, “Just..Finn made an apology post and now suddenly everyone wants to be my friend again."

She shakes her head as if she’s trying to make sense of it, “That’s..fickle.”

“Yeah. Mr. Kane told me not to dwell on it.”

She nods, “I’m glad you aren’t.” She responds with a twinkle in her eye.

Okay.

Alright.

Not fair.

“Hey.” You lightly swat her on her shoulder as she comes even closer.

“Hey.” She responds gently as her arms envelope you in a hug.

And God..

You’re not even angry anymore.

You just feel sore and content.

In a good way.

In the best way.

Your Lexa induced zen takes you through the rest of the day and the rest of the apologies thrown your way and it isn’t until your last class let’s out and you’re on the way to your car that it’s tested.

You walk right into Raven but you both manage to hold on to your respective belongings.

“Raven.”

“Griffin.”

And you wait.

Because her shitty apology is coming your way.

You know it.

And you’re already ready to give your response.

A vague one so she knows she has to try harder.

You don’t care about all the other apologies.

In fact, you haven’t said a word to anyone who's apologized to you and you’re looking forward to whispers about that tomorrow.

But Raven you’ll forgive.

It’ll just take time.

It’ll just take..

She walks by you without another word.

Well.

At least tomorrow is Friday.

Oh crap.

You haven’t started on your Art History Essay and it’s due tomorrow.

But maybe it’ll be a distraction from the way that your heart feels like it’s been run over.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sounds so happy and you’re sure she’d love to have a date to the dance.
> 
> To share in the cheesy magic she describes.
> 
> And you want to believe.
> 
> In the magic that is.
> 
> But this isn’t X-files and you don’t have nine seasons and a revival.
> 
> All you have is a damn homecoming dance and a pretty girl who deserves so much better than you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. Thanks for all the comments, friends. I'm currently a thousand miles and change from home for work. Par for the course, really but excuse me while I yet again make excuses for slow writing. Lots of golf and HP references in this chap. I do not know why. I also pretend to know something about debate. Ha. Thank you for the words you leave me. So very grateful for you lovelies.

In your completely unbiased opinion, you’ve crafted a stellar Art History Essay about the symbolism of guitars in Georges Braque’s work.

And yeah maybe it took you a lot longer to write it given the fact that you couldn’t take your mind off the way Raven brushed you off but whatever.

You turn it in as the bell rings letting you go from second period and you can’t quite keep the ‘job well done’ smile off your face.

You feel like you’re back in your academic stride and you’re ready to take on anything.

“Someone’s cheery.” Lexa greets as you almost bump into her outside of English.

“Hi.” You manage shyly.

“Hello, Clarke.”

“I just turned in my Art History essay and I feel pretty good about it.” You explain at her expectant look.

She leans languidly on the wall beside the door, “Oh wow, on time?” she gasps.

“Lexaaa..” You whine because honestly you can’t take her teasing anymore.

You can.

And you will.

Absolutely.

She reaches a gentle hand, her eyes following along, to touch your elbow as you keep your hold on your backpack straps like a tether. “I’m glad, Clarke.”

Your heart speeds up and you find your right hand making a path of its own to the pocket of her Student Gov hoodie.

“Clarke..”

“Is the door locked?” Mr. Kane asks scaring the both the living shit as well as daylights out of you.

You grip on tighter to her hoodie instinctively as you turn to him. “What?” You croak.

“I asked whether the door is locked because..” Mr. Kane asks juggling his books as he turns the knob. “Nope not closed. Ladies, you’re welcome in you know.”

You both nod mutely and he chuckles lightly before walking in and revealing Jasper behind him.

You pull away from Lexa hastily and watch in your periphery as she straightens up against the wall.

“Uhh. Hey.” He says.

And honestly when is he ever on time?

Your heart is beating fast because what if he saw you?

Not that you were doing anything with Lexa but..

You can’t..

You can’t subject her to the whispers that you’ve been dealing with in the wake of Finn and you’re not..

You’re not..

You barely even notice he’s walked into the class.

You and Lexa stand alone outside the classroom.

She’s pressed all the way against the wall and you’re not sure what you should say.

“Sorry.” Her voice is tiny and you’re aching and she shouldn’t be apologizing.

You shake your head and gently pull her off the wall. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

She smiles for a second before she trains her eye on her shoes. “I like being us, Clarke, I do..but..”

You resist the urge to pull back, heart in your mouth.

“I guess..I don’t know what is and isn’t okay..”

God.

You don’t either.

“Maybe we should talk about it. Because..the last thing I want..is for you to be unsure or uncomfortable..”

“I mean I’m not..I mean I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable..” She interrupts your rambling to ramble.

You can’t help but laugh.

And you swoon when she joins in.

“So I guess we have the same goals.”

“I guess we do.” She agrees.

“Lunch?” You ask.

“Lunch.” She confirms.

You don’t get to go to lunch.

Is this a recurring theme?

Nothing so dramatic as last time.

Roan grabs you as you make your way to the cafeteria. “It’s go time, Griff.”

Fuckitty Fuck on a spork.

You’d forgotten that yesterday you’d agreed to meet Roan during his study period for extra debate prep.

It’s the first competition of the year for your team and the last first of your high school career and you’re all living and hungry for it.

You shoot a text to Lexa and Octavia and get down to business.

“Clarke.” Bellamy calls as you peruse the students that walk by you in the hallway after your last class.

You sigh.

You think Lexa probably takes the bus if she doesn’t have to stay late and by now they’re likely gone.

“Hey,” You greet with a hug as he comes up to you.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all semester.” He grumbles.

“Yeah.”

You’ve been kind of crap at answering anyone’s texts recently.

You suspect he’s sent you a couple that are buried under the apology and check in texts you’ve gotten.

“What are you doing this weekend? Let’s hang out!”

He brightens at your suggestion and you make plans to catch a movie on Saturday.

 

You think about texting Lexa on Saturday.

You don’t.

You watch a horror movie with Bellamy.

His choice, not yours.

He suffers for it through your whispering through all of it about how fake it is because you have to ground yourself in this reality.

He nobly doesn’t mention the amount of times you jump and cling to him.

 

You think about texting Lexa on Sunday.

You don’t.

You do some debate prep.

You do some homework.

And you peruse college websites and pretend that you’re not terrified at the prospect.

 

Art History runs long on Monday as Mr. Vie hands back your essays and takes the time to discuss them all.

An impressive feat you think for him to have graded it but you’re promptly derailed in that thought when you see that you got a ninety-seven.

You barely beat the door that Mr. Kane is closing as you dart into class and you send a wide grin Lexa’s way that she returns.

“Hey!” You call out a little too excitedly as you walk up to her after class.

“Clarke.” She responds with a smile.

“Lunch?”

She grimaces. “I can’t. Student Gov meetings all week during lunch and after school as well.”

You try to disguise your utter and complete disappointment. “What are you planning? The White House Correspondents’ Dinner?”

She chuckles lowly, “Not quite. Spirit Week and Homecoming.”

You nearly choke.

“We’re finalizing the Spirit Days and getting the voting system ready and then later in the week and next week we’ll turn our focus to the dance.”

“Uhhh.”

And to think you got a ninety-seven writing about a dead guy and his cubes.

Lexa looks at you expectantly as she shoulders her bag.

“When is it? The dance I mean..the dance..”

She smiles, “Week after next.”

“I’ve never been to a dance.” You admit.

“Never?” Lexa asks.

She looks shocked.

“I mean, I don’t know..I just didn’t go Freshman year and after my Dad.. and Finn and I started dating in February and he was out of town for Junior Prom and..yeah nope, never.”

She nods, “That’s okay.”

“I know.” You say hastily, reeling from the conversation and its implications.

Are there implications?

“I’ve been to every dance. Worked them, really. But I like them.”

“Costia?” You dare to ask.

Lexa shakes her head wryly, “Vehemently against them.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

You’re not sure how you feel.

You should take your time to think and feel and..

“Okay bye.”

You manage to make it halfway down the hallway before you’re overcome with self-loathing at your stupidity.

You want to run back but you’re not sure what you would say to her.

Okay relax, Clarke.

Compose yourself.

These are the facts.

Homecoming is week after next.

Lexa likes dances.

You like Lexa.

You’ve been wanting to go to a dance but just have never had things quite align for you.

Things are kind of aligned right now.

I mean besides your sexuality.

Not straight.

Check.

Focus!

You don’t want to bring Lexa into your mess.

But you really want to see her.

In a dress, lights low, slit high, glitter on her face.

You have to go.

Maybe meet her there so you don’t suck her into your crap.

And she’ll likely be working anyway.

But maybe a dance or two.

After all she’s your pal from English class.

You had one presentation together.

It’s totally justified.

Yes.

Yeah.

That works.

Yeah yup.

You have lunch with Octavia, Nyko, and Lincoln.

You allow yourself one minute of wondering where Raven has been having her lunches.

You allow yourself twenty seconds of considering asking Octavia.

You say nothing. Lincoln and Nyko whine the whole time about missing Lexa.

Or rather her packed lunch.

Mongrels.

You miss her, packed lunch with the incredible assortment of cheeses or not.

You meet up with your debate teammates after school and you for the most part stay on track but really you don’t.

But like the pavlovian victims you are, all Ms. Cartwig has to say is, “Competition on Saturday.” and you all surface from the rabbit holes you’ve descended into and focus.

You think about shooting a text to Lexa about all the antics.

But.

Are you texting pals?

Can you text anecdotally?

Your texts to each other have been few and far between and logistical.

Ugh.

Why is it so hard with her?

Finn was texting you memes the day after he asked you out.

Does Lexa like memes?

God.

And with that question, you officially hate yourself.

 

Tuesday is much the same.

She beats you to class and watches you expectantly as you walk up to her desk, “Hey.”

“Hi Clarke.”

“How’s all the planning?”

She affects a bored tone. “The usual. I’m kind of desensitized after all these years.”

“Really?” You ask, delighted in seeing the way her face can’t help but light up.

“Not at all. I just..I like it all..you know..the magic of it all. It feels like so much is possible.”

You gulp.

She sounds so happy and you’re sure she’d love to have a date to the dance.

To share in the cheesy magic she describes.

And you want to believe.

In the magic that is.

But this isn’t X-files and you don’t have nine seasons and a revival.

All you have is a damn homecoming dance and a pretty girl who deserves so much better than you.

Because you can’t give her that magic.

You can’t give her anything.

All you are is a regular ol’ Debbie downer.

Cancriform Clarke.

And you should probably stop wasting her time.

"That sounds great Lexa. Really it does.” You manage.

She smiles.

So wide.

So beautiful.

You hear the cheery whistling that precedes Mr. Kane’s entrance and send a small smile back her way before passing her desk and heading to yours.

You manage a response to her parting smile after English as you head your separate ways.

You ignore the pang in your chest when there are at least three homecoming proposals at lunch.

There’s a lot of screaming and celebrating and Octavia actually puts in earplugs in all the chaos and continues eating like there’s nothing going on.

You have to admire her lack of ‘give-a-fuck’.

 

On Wednesday you deliberately arrive late to English, keep your head down the entire class, focused on the reading quiz, and deliberately take your time after the bell rings.

By the time you look up, Lexa is gone and you feel worse.

The number of homecoming proposals has risen exponentially it seems and at this point it’s like a minefield in the hallway with all the ridiculous theatrics.

Damn everyone.

In your Psych class, the last class of the day, a girl you vaguely recognize taps your shoulder and informs you almost sadly that Finn asked Keenan to homecoming last period by singing her a song in their class.

She squeezes your arm briefly as if trying to make you feel better and God..why are the people at this school so terrible?

You don’t care that Finn has moved on.

Really.

You’d thought about Homecoming and Prom briefly when you got back from Alaska at the end of the summer.

Fleetingly.

Finn made an offhanded comment about how you’d be the King and Queen of both dances and you splashed him with water where he was lounging on a floatie and that was that.

Finn’s found his new Queen and you..

Well...

It would probably be a good time to focus on college apps with early deadlines coming up.

 

Your Thursday is the same and you desperately pretend that you don’t see the way Lexa is looking at you.

There are at least seventeen homecoming proposals.

You hate everything.

But you’re two days away from competition and there’s at least one good thing in your world.

 

Your Friday is the same.

And then it isn’t.

Lexa watches you after English class lets out as you keep your head down the way you have the past few days.

You think she’ll be gone in a few seconds.

She has to be. Because if she’s not..

She’s not.

She’s walking towards you.

You’re realizing that there are probably more effective ways to avoid people than staying in one place where they can easily find you.

You are a dummy dumb dumb.

“Clarke?”

You can’t respond.

She takes a seat at the desk next to you and faces forward for a second.

You look to the front momentarily and see Mr. Kane shoot you both a confused look before he loads himself up with his books and leaves the room.

She’s quiet for a long time it seems.

You can’t bring yourself to move or say something.

Why isn’t there a fourth period class in this classroom damnit?

She speaks.

Quietly.

So quietly.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

You swallow and come up short with a response.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asks, even more quiet.

Your head snaps up and you turn your whole body to her. “Lexa. No. You didn’t. You couldn’t.”

She looks down at the desk and runs her fingers across it briefly before she turns her whole body to face you. “I like you so much, Clarke.”

You heart stutters and you suck in a gasp.

“I know that there are some things that are..difficult for you right now..and if I’m one of them or if I..”

You shake your head.

You need to explain it to her.

She’ll get it.

Right?

You put her in this limbo and there’s a dance and you’re not good enough and..

You can’t make sense of anything right now.

“Are you going to Homecoming with someone?” You ask because you’ve suddenly been stricken with the thought.

The fear.

Not that you have monopoly over Lexa and her choices especially since you haven’t defined anything with her and you’ve been ignoring her and there are..

“Clarke..no..I wouldn’t. I’m not..available..I mean..”

You suck in a breath of relief.

Her brow furrows, “Did someone say something? I..”

“Lexa? Do you wanna go to the dance? With me I mean?”

Clarke, what?

That’s not even close to what you were going to say to her?

But your heart constricts and your breath stops and your body tenses and Christ on a stick, you just asked Lexa to homecoming.

“Clarke?”

You know what?

Fuck it.

You stand up.

She stands up.

“Lexa. I want to go with you. I’ve been so confused the last couple of days and I put us in limbo..and you probably have whiplash now..I know I do..but I want..I want to go with you. Cute dresses. Top 40 songs. You and me. And whatever stupid theme..”

“Under the Sea.”

“Ugh fine. You and me, under the sea.”

Lexa grins wide.

So wide.

And where did your nerves go?

And why were they here in the first place?

Rude.

She shakes her head.

You take her hand.

“Please tell me you’re about to say yes.”

The nerves are back.

Rude.

“Clarke, are you sure because..”

“I’m sure. I don’t care about anyone else, Lexa.”

She shakes her head in disbelief.

You would disbelieve yourself if you were her right now.

You disbelieve yourself as you right now.

“Do you want to go with me?” You whisper.

She kisses you.

It’s soft and then hard and then her arms are around you in a tight hug.

“Is that a yes?” You manage.

Are those tiny baby tears in your eyes?

No.

Nope.

She pulls back and scans your face before nodding.

“Okay. Okay. So are you working it? Can I pick you up?”

She’s slow to respond.

“Not working it.” She finally sounds out. “Senior perks.” She intertwines her fingers with yours, “I would love for you to pick me up.”

“Okay. Okay.” Your heart has vacated the premises. “Okay. Okay.” You repeat.

You close your eyes and just savour the moment and you barely barely feel the softest kiss pressed to your mouth.

And yet you feel it all the way to your toes.

“I should go.” Lexa whispers.

You nod.

And you respectively grab your things before untwining your hands at the door as you separate.

You process it in Calculus.

What the Fuck?

What the Fuck?

What the Fuck?

You asked Lexa to homecoming.

Your gay damn ass..asked Lexa..

Lexa..

To the homecoming dance.

And I mean you know you like girls now.

But this..

This is next level gay.

And you’re terrified.

But also?

You’re kind of not.

Because. It’s Lexa.

Speaking of Lexa.

She’s at lunch when you walk up.

And she smiles up at you from your seat as you approach.

“Hi.” You whisper as you sit next to her.

“Hi.” She smiles back.”

“Lexa!”

“Yoo Lex!” Comes the chorus from Nyko and Lincoln as they join you.

“Missed you Lexa!” Nyko exclaims before he frowns.

“Uhh..where’s your lunch."

“Oh I’m just visiting for a sec. I have to meet up with the rest of..”

“Visiting?” Octavia asks as she appears out of nowhere, regular six tacos in tow.

“Yeah. I just hadn’t been to lunch all week and..”

“Okay so where’s your lunch?” Lincoln asks.

“It’s in the room where we’re meeting because..”

“You’re just visiting.” Octavia says as she narrows her eyes at the two of you.

“Ugh. Lincoln groans, “Come on..to the line we go.”

The two giant boys make a dramatic show of getting up to go get their food and you can’t help but shiver as Octavia watches you quietly before she tucks into her tacos.

You feel Lexa’s body move against yours in a relieved sigh.

“How long do you have?” You ask Lexa quietly.

She meets your eyes, “Couple of minutes. Just wanted to..see you.”

You dart your eyes to Octavia but she seems otherwise engrossed.

You reach your left hand down to her knee and gently squeeze. “I’m happy to see you too.”

And God.

You are.

It feels like you haven’t seen each other in ages.

You feel her hand lightly rest on yours under the table and you feel so full.

It seems like a long moment as you watch each other but it’s short..too short when her phone lights up and she sighs. “I should go.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She removes her hand from yours before she stands.

“Nice of you to visit..us.” Octavia says, mouth wrapped around her fifth taco. Is she an inhumanly fast eater or did you gaze into Lexa’ eyes for a really long time.

Both?

But she’s gone and you already miss her and..

“So..” Octavia starts. “Remember when you told me you were bi?”

You gulp. “Uhh yeah?”

“Is that a thing?” She asks with an emphasized nod in the direction Lexa went.

You swallow before finding the courage to nod.

“That’s great Clarke. She’s good. Really good. And so are you. I’m happy for you.”

You really really love Octavia Blake.

 

Saturday arrives and you’re pumped as can be.

The bus is sweltering and despite the fact that you picked out your thinnest dress shirt, you can feel waterfalls of sweat pouring down your body.

Your teammates are not faring much better and you’re all a little ornery and rowdy as the bus chugs along at the slowest pace known to man.

Still, despite its Guinness book of records sluggardly pace, it arrives and it’s go time for your team.

It’s an LD, Lincoln Douglas, competition and the topic, ‘A just government ought to prioritize civil liberties over national security’ is one you and your teammates are well prepared for.

It goes well.

Echo threatens to attack only three people, Roan manages to convince four girls and one guy to give him their phone numbers, and Mrs. Cartwig only has to get you to focus on the event seven times.

By metrics anyone other than your teammates care about, half of you clear the prelims and you and Luna come out as strong contenders elimination rounds.

Ultimately you both succumb to polo/jacket combo wearing and better smelling robots dressed as humans from a private school.

But only barely.

You’re all exhilarated that the first competition of the season went so well and are already arguing about how you think the next ones will go.

And the beauty of it all is that all of the joy and adrenaline is powerful enough to overwhelm the smell of the sweat on the bus ride home.

A true victory.

You’re on the bus when it comes.

A text.

From Lexa.

**Lexa: How did it go?**

And your heart is pounding so hard that it nearly shakes the phone right out of your suddenly clammy hand.

She remembered.

You’ve mentioned the date in passing and you’ve taken care not to ramble too much about debate in your conversations and yet.

She remembers.

**Clarke: Really well, thank you.**

And you want to add more.

You want to tell her that Roan is currently calling back all five of the poor souls that gave him their phone numbers.

You want to tell her that you’re sore like after a good hard day’s work.

You want to tell her that on days like this when you feel so much zeal and passion, it leaves you punch drunk and unsure of what you want to do with your life.

**Lexa: I’m glad Clarke, I was thinking about you.**

But this..this is a start.

And a great one at that.

 

You spend a lazy Sunday on the couch playing Mario Kart online on your Wii like you do after every competition.

It’s a tradition you’ve had with yourself since you started competing in debate.

Not that it can truly be called a lazy Sunday at all.

You are relentlessly obsessive in your desire to beat these random people from all over the world.

Your mom is holed up in her room as usual and there’s no witness to your ridiculous gesticulating at the TV screen.

Whatever..

Some people do meth in their spare time.

 

On Monday the school is excited and abuzz.

Homecoming Week is next week and the walls are plastered with posters detailing the torture students have to undergo to prove their spirit to everyone.

Monday is Magic day.

Tuesday is Throwback day.

Wednesday is Way out in Space day.

Thursday is Treat day (Yes that’s right. Dress like your favourite treat.).

And oh my gosh.

Who the heck came up with this crap?

Friday of course is Homecoming and everyone is expected to wear the school colours.

Yay.

Do you sound unenthusiastic?

You are.

You’re feeling very tempted to skip the entire week.

“I worked really hard on those.” You hear from behind you as you glare a hole into the poster on the closest wall to your locker.

You shiver.

“The poster or the themes?” You ask.

Lexa comes into view beside you, beautiful and also beautiful and did you mention beautiful, as she leans nonchalantly against the adjacent locker to yours and shrugs. “Depends. How much do you hate the themes?”

You shake your head, “I don’t hate the themes.”

“Clarke..” She starts lowly.

Oh dear.

“Were you not just frowning at the posters for five and a half minutes?”

You sigh, caught. “The themes are great they uh..”

She chuckles, “I’m convinced that the other members of student government are still unhappy about the fact that I decided not to run for President. They veto almost everything I suggest.”

Your shoulders slump in relief, “Oh so these aren’t your suggestions? Thank God, Lexa..”

She laughs then, full and loud.

And how you want to always do what you just did to make her laugh the way she just did.

She shakes her head and smiles as she glances back at the poster, “I don’t think Way out in Space day is too bad.” She admits.

You grumble. “I guess not.”

“Neither is Magic day.”

You hum.

“And I mean throwback day is a classic.”

You narrow your eyes.

“And Treat day. Well. It’s original and there are so many..”

“Lexa.”

“Yes Clarke.”

“You like these themes don’t you.”

“Of course I do. They were my suggestions.”

The bell rings for first period.

You sigh, defeated. “Lexaa..”

“My original suggestions were shot down but these are fine substitutes, don’t you think?” She teases, thoroughly enjoying herself. “And besides, you’d be a grump about it regardless of the themes.”

You mouth drops open in your indignation as she starts to walk backwards to her class.

“I’m not a grump!” You call out.

She stops and regards you. “Prove it.”

Damn her.

Your mind is on it all morning.

You’ve never participated in Spirit week for much of the same reasons you’ve never been to a dance.

Also you definitely didn’t want to look as ridiculous as Raven or Bellamy always do.

Oh.

Raven.

You haven’t seen her since last Thursday.

Anyway.

You’ve never participated and now..well...

Now it’s your senior year and a pretty girl dared you and also you’re gay.

There’s a nomination form on King and Queen in second period and you turn in a blank piece of paper.

You participate in the group discussion in English and earn a smile and a hip cocked against her desk as your reward when the class clears out.

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

“I’m gonna do it.” You declare.

“What’s that?”

“The Spirit Week thing.”

“Ahhh. ‘The Spirit Week Thing’” She mocks.

You pout.

“I can’t wait.” She says.

You certainly can.

“No lunch today?” You ask trying not to hope.

She shakes her head, “DJ for the dance bailed on me. Have to find an alternative.”

You nod.

She leans in, “Tomorrow. Library.” She kisses your cheek and you nod dumbly.

Tomorrow.

Library.

Tomorrow, Library.

Tomorrow, Library.

Your creepy gay chant occupies your mind and takes you through the rest of the day with minimal incident.

 

On Tuesday..

Tuesday signifies the alteration of your chant.

Today.

Library.

Today, Library.

Today, Library.

You’re gay, Library.

You wink at her as you leave class after English, trying entirely too hard to be cool and your cosmic reward is to walk right into the door frame.

She laughs and well..it could be worse.

You rush into the library after class and Mr. Wallace nods his head in greeting and it feels new and exciting and incredibly needed.

She finds you at your usual table, one bite into a turkey sandwich and sits next you with a playful nudge.

“Glad to see you away from the radioactive cafeteria pizza.”

You sputter indignantly, “It’s not..”

Well..

It could be. 

“Glad to see you away from our wonderful plutocracy.” You redirect instead.

“Plutocracy!” She exclaims with a laugh, “Wait until you see the Homecoming decorations. You’ll be giving us aid money.”

You smile, “Hi.”

“Hello, Clarke.” She responds simply as she unwraps her lunch.

You can’t help yourself.

You kiss her on the cheek and suddenly her smile can power the International Space Station.

“You asked me to Homecoming.” She states, grin in her voice.

You cock you head faux confused, “Are you just now realizing that?”

She pushes into you, “No..I just..”

“I know.” You say.

Because you do.

Oh do you.

“So next Saturday.” She confirms.

“Next Saturday.” You agree.

She nods. “I’m going to buy a dress.”

You combust.

Right there and then.

She looks on horrified as the smoke rises and you collapse in a pile of ashes as the camera zooms out and Mr. Wallace shakes his head as he notices the pillar of smoke rising but chooses to go right back to his book. You don’t blame him because he’s reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and it’s quite the page turner..

“Clarke?” Lexa questions.

Ahh.

You’re here alive and whole. Mouth wide open and gaping but alive nonetheless.

You swallow.

Swallow again.

“Cool.” You say.

Ironic because you are decidedly not cool but Lexa keeps making the puzzling choice to keep hanging out with you and Oh my giddy God, you’re going to Homecoming with her.

“Do you have a dress?” She asks.

You do.

A couple.

Summery day dresses.

The only formal dress you have, you wore to your father’s funeral.

You shake your head.

“Would you let me know the colour of your dress when you get it?”

You nod.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

You nod.

“Do..you..do you still want to go.”

You shake out of your reverie and place a gentle hand over hers.

“More than anything.”

And yeah your brain, hasn’t caught up to all of this and you’re so very overwhelmed.

But your words are true.

“Okay.” She says before she cracks a small smile, “Just checking.”

You kiss her softly.

“Hello.” You whisper.

“Hi.” She answers shyly.

“I like doing that.” You confess.

And oh does she blush.

You kiss her red cheek.

You both go back to eating and you get your, “Me too.” just as you finish your sandwich.

You lean your head against your hand and look up to her.

She clears her throat. 

“So..how far along are you in your Spirit Week costume planning?”

Rude.

It hits you when you get home that you’re going to Homecoming with her.

Homecoming.

And Oh God.

You need a dress.

You take a breath, try not to panic and make a call.

He answers on the second ring, “Yo.”

“Miller! I need your help!”

You make the plan to meet up at the Mall after school on Friday after he talks you down because you do end up panicking like the weak gay you are.

 

On Wednesday, Octavia glares at you for missing lunch the day before and you pout the entire time because Lexa is sorting out a Homecoming dance emergency.

Honestly, how much planning goes into this stupid thing?

At debate, the mood can be summed up as pumped.

Fresh from your performance at the competition on Saturday, everyone is out for blood for the next one the weekend after next.

You? You can barely even imagine a time after next week.

It’s so momentous.

So looming.

You asked Lexa to Homecoming.

You.

Asked.

Lexa.

And you can’t believe it.

It’s impossible to fathom.

And yeah there are roughly two trillion galaxies in the observable universe.

But like..

Lexa.

Ya know?

So anyway.

You can’t focus in debate.

 

On Thursday Lexa is back at lunch which she makes sure to let you know during English.

You sit next to her and as the boys chatter away and Octavia devours her food like she’s being chased.

You reach down a hand and it finds hers and you can barely breathe and the beating of your heart is so loud that it's probably messing with some ultrasounds at the local hospital.

Because.

You’re holding hands with her.

Your cheeks are bright red.

You can feel them.

Lexa’s cheeks are bright red you can see them.

The pico de gallo falling out of the taco that is halfway in Octavia’s mouth is bright red.

And Octavia's eyes are trained on yours and you know she knows.

But she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t.

And you grip her hand a little tighter because it feels so good.

 

By Friday, you’re a hand holding pro.

Olympic level.

None of the clamminess from yesterday.

Minimal shake.

Blushing is covered by the blush you applied in the morning.

And Octavia only rolls her eyes three times.

But Friday also marks the day.

It’s all real now.

You know it when they announce the Homecoming Court and Finn is on it and you have a weird moment where you realize that you likely would have as well had you not fallen from grace and right into gay.

Ungracefully you might add.

More of a tumble into gay than a fall.

But you digress.

Today is D day.

Dress day.

You’re at the mall at the scheduled time.

You drive separately as Miller has to grab some notes from a classmate and you want to get a head start.

You do not get a head start.

You stand petrified at the door of the mall and just wait.

And oh did you make a mistake.

And a silly one at that.

Because it’s not Miller that walks up to you, its Bryan.

And why in the world did you not see this coming?

But really.

It’s a blessing and a curse.

Bryan is far more adept at helping you find a dress than Miller could ever hope to be in this and every other dimension.

But.

Bryan is nosy.

He is relentless in prying into the aftermath of Monsterkiss™.

And you..

Well, you sing like a canary.

It feels good to talk about it all.

You talk about Lockerslamkiss™ and Porchsurprisefirstkiss™ among the increasing number that you’re cataloguing and he gasps appropriately at all the stories.

It’s actually a lot of fun.

And he serves his primary purpose when he helps you find a beautiful dark orange dress that is definitely what you should not be buying with the money you scrounged up this summer in Alaska but..

This is your first and last Homecoming and what can you say, you’ve found the spirit.

The dress matches your eyes in anime world where you’re avenging someone or another but in this world it’s a nice contrast on your skin and you actually feel good in it.

Confident.

And you need the confidence because lest you forget.

You’re going to Homecoming with Lexa.

A fact that Bryan loves and he works to convince you that it is not as big of a deal as your making it to be, you should be proud, and that the gossip mill will get over it.

He sends you off with the advice to go with the flow and you drive home in a daze, bagged dress safely bucked up in your passenger seat.

Your plan is to spend the entire weekend obsessing but your aunt decides to pay a visit bringing in her tow, your nephew Aden.

It’s not that you dislike Aden.

Far from it.

But he’s twelve and wants to play video games with you the whole time and you’d much rather be obsessing.

It’s a chaotic weekend and you only remember at the end of it that the new school week means that it’s Spirit Week.

And the first of the Spirited days is Magic day.

No problem.

You are the queen of improvised and par for the course.

You prove it to Lexa when she find you in the morning and she’s..

She’s wearing robes.

Ravenclaw ones to be specific and..

Are women attracted to women in robes a specific subsect of wlw or is that just a general known attraction hazard?

Because.

You are ready to get your letter, years too late, just to be sorted into her house and make out in the Ravenclaw Tower common room and then look down on the beautiful view of the lake while holding hands before doing some more making out.

Your mouth is open and your eyes are admiring and she’s frowning..

“Clarke, what are you?”

You look down.

Oh.

Par for the course.

“I’m a muggle.”

It’s a least cute right?

If you were subpar, you’d be one of those kids who wears a nametag that says God and calls it a day.

This is better.

Right?

But Lexa is shaking her head and she’s hitting it against the locker and she’s groaning way too dramatically.

“Why did I expect more?” She drags out.

Why did she?

Par for the course Clarke.

Should be your name.

But now her hands are slamming against the locker and she stops every so often to gesticulate at the ceiling dramatically moan that she should have expected this.

And you?

Well.

You’re loving and living for it.

Because.

You’re taking this girl to Homecoming on Saturday.

And you’ll wear your Orange number and she’ll wear her unknown colour number with the high slit and you’ll dance and you’ll kiss her and people will whisper.

But you know what?

You.

Just.

Can.

Not.

Wait.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lexa..” You stammer out, mouth dry as she descends the stairs slowly.
> 
> “Clarke. You look wonderful.” She murmurs quietly, as she stops in front of you.
> 
> You shake your head in disbelief, “No..You..God Lexa..you look..”
> 
> She blushes, “Thank you, Clarke.”
> 
> “Yeah..wow.” You manage.
> 
> She giggles and takes your hand gently.
> 
> “May I?” She asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Long delay. Much travelling. But I managed to get a few days of stillness to bang this out. It's kind of ridiculous. Lots of cheese. Thanks always for the lovely comments and kudos and messages. Happy New Year, friends. Hope it's a good one.

“A Muggle.” Lexa whispers as she shakes her head at a loss.

You sidle up to her with a grin that’s far too wide and run a hand down her arm, interrupting her tantrum.

She turns to you, still exasperated.

“I bought my dress.” You state nonchalantly pretending not be be affected by the feel of the robes under your arms.

She stills and her eyes widen, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You can’t help but blush under her scrutiny. “It’s dark orange.”

She smiles softly and closes her eyes as she leans against a locker.

“What’s yours?” You ask, half out of burning curiosity and half to prevent yourself from leaning in to kiss her right in the middle of the hallway.

She opens her eyes.

A smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

And then just like that she’s gone, robes flowing behind her while you gape after her.

Damn.

You think about her all morning.

Not that that’s particularly different from every other day but today it’s more urgent.

It makes you restless.

You thoughts jump to how you slammed her into the locker last week and stay there.

Curious.

Eager.

You’re not sure you’ve ever wanted anything so much and it makes you fidget uncomfortably through your classes as your heart takes up an odd rhythm every time you think of her.

You feel bold when she sends you a wink as she settles in her chair at the beginning of English class and you know exactly what you want to do after.

You shoot her a look when class lets out and she sticks around after everyone leaves.

You can't take your eyes off her as she approaches you and you utilize the time before the bell rings exploring her mouth with the justification that her robes will shield you from view should anyone walk in.

She doesn’t buy your excuse but she sure does explore your mouth in return.

Naturally, now that you’ve seen how dramatic Lexa is and how rewarding it is to rile her up, you’re hardly inspired to make any effort in dressing up for the week.

 

On Tuesday, Throwback Tuesday, you spot her across the hallway first thing in the morning and you’re glad for it because it gives you time to compose yourself.

She’s a hippie.

An honest to goodness hippie from the sixties.

Her hair is let down.

She has on a loose flowing tie-dyed blouse.

And she’s wearing bell bottoms that in your expert opinion have no business being worn by anyone but damn if she doesn’t make them look divine.

She’s laughing and talking with a few of her friends and you desperately try to remember how to breathe when she spots you and makes her way over.

Her eyes roam over your outfit and you try not to squirm.

She sighs long and loud, “And what exactly are you supposed to be today?”

You hold out your hand proudly to display the ring on it.

She frowns, “A mood ring?”

“Yup. I’m a person who wears a mood ring. When was the last time you saw one of these? What a throwback? Am I right?”

You smile widely and follow the curves of her outfit as she groans.

“Are you disappointed in me?” You ask, voice low.

She bites her lip and your heart stutters.

“Stick around after English again and maybe I can make it up to you.” You challenge.

You’re brave with her in a way you’ve never been with any previous people you’ve dated and it’s completely exhilarating.

She shakes her head at you with a fond smile and you feel completely bewitched.

You’re hip to hip with your hippie after English and your mood ring glows a deep deep red.

 

On Wednesday your Volvo gives a couple of hiccups before it starts and when it finally does, you miss your favourite parking spot and your favourite girl and you almost miss one of your favourite classes.

You make it into the door to the Bio Lab just after the tardy bell rings and you pretend that the fact that you spend a good ten minutes catching your breath doesn’t mean you’re unfit.

You’re early to English of course and you’re sitting on your desk eager and ready when she walks in.

And Dear Lord.

She’s wearing what you’re fairly sure is a Star Trek uniform, red on the body and arms and black on the shoulders and sides with black pants and you’re ready to pledge your allegiance to the trekkies or whatever they call themselves.

“Clarke..” She drags out.

“Yes Lexa.” You answer, eyes drawn to her neck which is mostly encapsulated by the high collar but so very very enticing.

“It’s Way Our in Space Day.”

“It sure is.”

She rolls her eyes and approaches you, leaving her bag by her desk, “What are you supposed to be today?”

You lean back on your arms, “A hundred and fifty years from now..after the nuclear apocalypse of course..”

She rolls her eyes again as she bumps her hip against your knees. “Of course.”

“I’m a sky person aboard a ship who’s being sent down to see if the earth is survivable after all the radiation.”

“Mmm are you now..” She asks lazily with a daring peck to your lips.

They tingle delightfully as you respond, “Yup. In some circles I’m even known as a sky princess.”

“Mmm. No tiara to complete your extraordinary outfit.” She asks gesturing at your regular clothes.

“What can I say? My people are ungrateful.”

“Shame.” She sighs out as she turns back to her desk at the sound of your classmates entering.

After class she lingers before heading towards you with a cheeky grin and you stand to meet her excitedly.

“So who are you?” You ask.

She straightens proudly, “I’m Commander Lexa of the USS Stargazer.”

Your mouth drops open at her tone, “That’s..”

She kisses you.

And so you set off into exploration.

The now familiar space that is her mouth and the new frontier of her neck.

It’s a true wonder how you both make it to your next classes at all.

 

On Thursday morning you spot her just as you rush in to meet early with your lab group before class starts and you can barely focus on your report at the thought of her walking around in a onsie that’s modelled after a skittles wrapper.

Dear God.

You lay in wait in English and when she walks in you quickly pull her into the corner and spend a good minute tasting the rainbow before you release her and head to your desk.

“What are you today?” She calls breathlessly.

“Are you kidding? Have you seen me?” You ask as you gesture dramatically at yourself in your regular clothes.

“Lexa..I..am a treat!”

You revel in her sigh and the flush on her neck that lingers for the first few minutes of class.

 

“Not terrible.” Lexa observes as she comes up to you on Friday morning.

The school is abuzz as it always is on homecoming and almost everyone is wearing school colours.

You at least have managed to muster enough school spirit to wear the colours every year and today is no exception.

You’re wearing one of your blue debate t-shirts and you have on an orange bandanna and you know it’s the bare minimum but you still scoff when you hear Lexa’s words.

That is until you turn around in place by the tiger mascot where you’re standing and catch sight of her.

She is a blue and orange blur complete with arm bands on every spare bit of skin and facepaint with a jersey number on each cheek.

And is her hair..

Dear Lord.

She has blue and orange streaks all through her hair.

“Well if you’re the benchmark..I can settle for not terrible.” You manage, when you finally take her in.

“Too much?”

“Not enough really.”

She genuinely looks worried for a second - And how she could possibly worry about not being spirited out enough you’ll never know – but she catches on to your sarcasm and smiles.

“You participated.” She says, delighted.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Are you coming to the game as well?”

“No.”

“Have you been to one?” She asks glancing momentarily around at all the students milling around.

You shake your head.

You’ve never been interested.

You started dating Finn after football season so you’d been spared the torture.

She cocks her head to the side.

“No.” You say at her look.

“What?” She asks through a laugh.

“That look. No I’m not interested in whatever sales pitch you have.”

She shakes her head ruefully, “I was only going to point out that it’s your senior..”

“Fine.” You agree.

What?

“What?”

“What?”

“Did you say yes?”

“I..”

“That’s great!” She squeezes your fingers quickly. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

“This is fun?” You grumble, hours later as the home team turnover the ball once again.

“Yes.” Lexa leans in to you, eyes on the event on the field, “Don’t think I didn’t see the sparkle in your eye when we almost got a first down.”

Whatever.

You don’t like sports.

But when they’re right in front of your face, you can get on board.

Even if the team sucks.

When you think of how casual Finn was about his practices, you can understand.

He's by the sideline now with his helmet off and his hair clinging to his face.

He's having about as good a game as the rest of the team is so not great but he like the rest of the team doesn't look too disheartened.

You suppose they're used to losing.

He'd spotted you earlier and sent you a confused look and you'd responded with a shrug and that was that.

But you're glad you came.

There’s a nice chill outside and the company’s good.

Lexa had introduced you to her friends, Emori and Dax and a few minutes into the first quarter Octavia and Lincoln had joined you but not before Octavia held a hand to your forehead and asked why you were at the game and if you were feeling okay before spotting Lexa and sending you a knowing look.

So all in all not a terrible night, even though the Tigers lose, especially since it doesn’t dampen Lexa’s spirit in the least and she leads chants all the way out to the parking lot as you stream out of the bleachers.

“Need a ride?” You ask as you and her split off and meander over to your Volvo.

“Had planned to ride with Emori..” She says with a shrug.

She suddenly smiles, “Didn’t know whether you’d show, grinch..”

“I’m not a grinch!” You protest as she bumps you playfully into you car.

“So tomorrow..”

“What’s going on tomorrow?” You tease.

She groans, “Not funny.”

Your grab at the lapels of her jacket, “I can’t wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah."

“6 o’clock?”

“On the dot.” You promise.

She grins and squeezes your hand once before she backs away.

Your car sputters to a start and you can feel the way she watches you as you drive out of the parking lot.

 

Mr Kane has been talking about foreshadowing in the novel that you’re reading and it’s perhaps something that you should have applied to your own life because the very same car that’s been giving you trouble all week is the one that won’t start now at all.

It’s Saturday and it’s the day of the Homecoming dance and you have a pretty dress and a pretty girl waiting for you but you’re dead in the water.

You try for ten minutes too long and slam your fist into the horn, frustrated.

The horn doesn’t work very well, sounding out a pathetic beep, and it’s not satisfying at all.

Your mom’s gone, presumably already at the school and your only option is uber much to your chagrin and likely to Lexa’s amusement.

Except it’s not an option at all.

You request a ride and your card is declined and a quick check of your bank account tells you that buying your homecoming dress cleaned you out of your funds.

Go figure.

You shoot a text to Lexa telling her you’re running late and try to come up with a solution.

No.

Any solution but that.

You turn your head away and rack your brain but your young neighbour’s bike taunts you in your periphery as it carelessly lies in the adjacent yard and you can’t.

It’s not even an option.

Not even..

Your feet are moving you rapidly towards the bike in question.

Can two people even fit on it?

Yes..

But..

No.

You’ll have to call Miller..or Bellamy..or Monty..or Octavia..

You definitely shouldn’t pick up the bike.

It would probably lay out hear sadly if not.

Which is fine because it’s a bicycle without feelings.

You certainly shouldn’t mount it.

It’s fairly comfortable.

But you can’t.

I mean you can’t even ride in heels.

Well I guess it’s possible for short distances like to the end of the street but certainly not..

Fuck.

It’s a twenty five minute ride to Lexa’s house and you make it in twenty seven because you stop twice.

Once because you lose your balance and drop your purse and phone and a second time because there’s a cute dog you have to pet.

You drop the bike on the sidewalk, rush up to the door and ring the bell.

“You’re late.” Lexa’s mother greets as she opens the door.

“Yeah..I uhh car trouble.”

She angles her head to the side and says nothing and you take that as a sign to come in.

“Clarke!” Lexa’s dad greets loudly.

You’d forgotten how large he was but you remember now as he looms over you.

“Mr. Woods.” You croak.

“Let me get a picture of you! I’m sure your mother got plenty but I just..” He trails off as he holds up the camera to capture your half terrified smile.

“Dad!” You hear from above you and you turn to meet Lexa’s voice and you immediately have to reach out to steady yourself.

A better choice would have been the pillar beside you rather than Lexa’s mom’s arm but your mortification at the look she sends you is shortlived when you turn back to Lexa.

She’s..

Christ.

Stunning.

Her dress is dark blue with thin straps on the shoulder and there’s no high slit liked you’d hoped because the dress itself is short short short and her legs are long long long and your mouth is wide wide wide.

“Lexa..” You stammer out, mouth dry as she descends the stairs slowly.

“Clarke. You look wonderful.” She murmurs quietly, as she stops in front of you.

You shake your head in disbelief, “No..You..God Lexa..you look..”

She blushes, “Thank you, Clarke.”

“Yeah..wow.” You manage.

She giggles and takes your hand gently.

“May I?” She asks.

You trail your eyes down slowly and realize that she’s asking to put a corsage on your wrist.

You nod, sure that you’ve lost the ability to speak.

She’s gentle.

So gentle when she turns your hand over and ties the corsage onto your wrist.

It’s blue and orange and matches both of your dresses and the tradition of it is so cheesy and wonderful and you’re completely sold on the idea of Homecoming before you even make it to the dance.

She has her own on the table next to you and you return the favour as gently as you can.

She kisses you on the cheek when you’re done and it’s only then that you realize that her dad has been taking pictures all along.

When he sees your attention on him, he takes the liberty to direct you and Lexa into cliché poses and you pretend that you’re not exhilarated.

You’re not sure how well you do given the fact that Lexa’s smiles and laughter are contagious and you have the weakest weakest immune system when it comes to this girl.

“Ground rules.” Lexa’s mom finally speaks up after Lexa’s dad looks like he’s had his fill.

You gulp.

“You go directly to Homecoming and then when you leave, you come directly back her. No detours. No nothing. Understood?”

Got it. Pass go. Do not collect 200.

“Yes ma’am” You and Lexa both respond.

Lexa’s mom frowns at you.

Can she read minds?

“No alcohol. No drugs. No breaking any law including speeding.”

Well..

No danger of that on your bicycle.

“Yes.”

“There is to be no..”

“Indra come on let them go and have fun.” Lexa’s father speaks up.

“I’m trying to make sure Lexa is safe, Gustus.”

“She goes every year.

Having a date doesn’t mean she’ll suddenly rebel.”

Lexa’s mother doesn’t look convinced.

“Besides, Indra..” Lexa’s dad continues, “I’m sure Lexa told Clarke all about your sword collection.”

Your eyes widen.

Lexa most certainly did not divulge that very pertinent information.

You shoot her a panicked look.

“Dad! Clarke is fine. Can we just go?”

“Sure just let me get pictures of you by her car and then we can send you off.”

Oh no.

Oh dear God no.

“Uhh about that..”

Lexa turns to you confused before she realizes, “Uber?” She asks with a teasing glint.

You grimace.

“Clarke, tell me that that bicycle that is currently on the sidewalk in front of our house was not your mode of transportation.” Lexa’s mother states, voice eerily even.

Lexa’s eyes widen and she passes by you to peer out of the window that her mother is looking out of.

“Well uh..”

The whole family turns to look at you.

“It’s environmentally friendly?” You squeak out.

Lexa’s mother lets out a long suffering sigh, “We’ll give you a ride. Let’s just get Tris in the car.”

“Mom no.”

Everyone turns to Lexa.

“I want to take the bike.”

“It’s late, Lexa.”

“It’s a twenty minute ride give or take and we can call you right when we get there. Right Clarke?”

Lexa’s mother shoots you a look.

“Uhh. I’m amenable to whatever you think is best Mrs Woods. Parents know best.”

Lexa rolls her eyes as he father laughs heartily.

“Mom, come on. It’ll be fine. Dad come on let’s take pictures."

And so you do.

Take the most ridiculous Homecoming pictures by your stolen bicycle.

Lexa is beautiful and silly and God did you ever get lucky.

Her parents finally go back to the house with a loud laugh from Lexa’s delighted father and a stern look from her mother.

“Clarke..this is...” Lexa says shaking her head.

“I know..I’m sorry Lexa, this is definitely not what I planned. It’s just my car wouldn’t start and I couldn’t afford an uber and..” 

Lexa steps in front of you, “I’m not mad..or disappointed, Clarke.”

You look up.

“I love it. And not just because it gave my mom a heart attack..it’s cute..and memorable.”

You meet her wide smile with a relieved one of your own.

“It’s not your bike is it?”

How?

“How did you know?”

She points at a sticker on the side that proudly declares, ‘Dylan’s bike.’

“I may have borrowed it from my neighbour without permission..”

“You stole it!?”

“Well it was just laying there in the yard!”

“Clarke!”

You throw your hands up, “It wasn’t my plan to Grand Theft Auto. I’ll return it later tonight.”

Lexa sighs and shakes her head at you with a begrudging smile, “More like Grand Theft Pedal.” She teases. “Well. Let’s get to it then.”

The one wonderful thing about having to ride a damn bike to homecoming is that Lexa has to wrap her arms around your torso.

You have a few false starts and turns that nearly have you toppling over but her laughter in your ear is pure music and her arms around you heavenly.

The ride leaves you chilly and invigorated and her kiss after you place the bike on the rack leave you warm and buzzing.

She calls her mother as promised and informs her that she didn’t die along the way.

“Shall we?” She asks after she hangs up, a little uncertain as you face the school doors.

“We shall.” You respond more firmly than you feel, linking her fingers with yours and leading the way.

Lexa had gotten complimentary tickets as a member of Planning Committee and you breeze past the ticket desk and straight to the photographer who takes pictures of you with various underwater backgrounds as you press your smile to Lexa’s cheek.

The cafeteria has been transformed aptly in the theme ‘Under the Sea’ with green and blue balloons everywhere and light effects to mimic sunlight underwater.

It’s actually nice and you congratulate Lexa on a job well done before leading her straight to the center of the dance floor.

Go big or go home you figure.

The song playing is some upbeat song that Lexa clearly knows as she sings along and dances goofily around you.

You can see whispers and looks being directed your way but it’s nothing crazy and you ignore them in favour of watching the beautiful girl in front of you.

“Murphy?” You question as you spot him in the makeshift DJ booth.

Lexa laughs, “I was desperate!”

He proves to be a good DJ and you’re genuinely having fun.

Miller and Bryan join you and so do Echo and Bellamy quickly followed by Roan and his date from another school Ontari and all of a sudden you have a dance circle.

You spot Finn with his date and he looks between you and Lexa for a moment before nodding at you and turning back to Keenan.

You don’t see Raven anywhere but you do see Octavia, which surprises you. She’s never been much for dances like yourself but it seems Lincoln has convinced her to come.

They dance sweetly off by themselves and your heart warms for your friend.

The gravity of you and Lexa coming together doesn’t really hit you until the first slow dance.

You all split off into couples and you pull Lexa in, resting your hands on her shoulders as her hands come down to rest on your waist.

Your heart is beating fast and you’re kind of freaking out because everyone can see and they’re..

“Is this okay?” She whispers.

You nod although you can see more and more glances sent your way.

More and more whispers.

“Hey.” Lexa gets your attention. “Look at me.”

And you do.

And everything else blurs into the background.

Just you and her.

And it feels so very very good and you can’t help but kiss her slow and sweet as you sway together gently.

You both escape the dance floor red cheeked when the music changes and couples begin to grind on one another.

You sit at a table and giggle together as you sip at the punch you served yourselves from the bowl in the center of the table.

You scoot your chair closer to her and lean her head against her shoulder and her arm comes up to rest over your shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Enjoying your first dance that you didn’t have to work?”

She adjusts you both so she can look at you as she responds, “Very much so. I was tempted to go over and get a status update from Tristan but I realized I have the most beautiful date in the place and wasting my time on anything else would be a travesty.”

You blush.

Hard.

Like super hard.

You actually have to look away and remind yourself how to breathe.

When you do, you still can’t find the words so you settle for kissing her on the cheek.

“Are you enjoying your first dance?” She asks after a moment.

You pause and think on how to reply in a way that adequately conveys your feelings. “I really really like you Lexa. You make me feel..special..and tonight is..I can see what you meant when you were talking about the magic of it. Thank you.”

Lexa shakes her head and frowns, “You are special. So special. God you’re..”

She raises a hand to your cheek and pulls you in for a swift kiss.

You both come out of it breathing raggedly, “You know?” She gasps out.

You laugh, “I think so.”

“What’s going on here?” A deep voice demands.

You look up startled to see Bellamy with Echo in tow.

“You guys need to stop. Echo and I will not be out-cuted at this dance so stop with the gooey eyes and the kissing stuff.”

“It’s really gross.” Echo adds with a wink.

Your shoulders drop in relief and you can feel Lexa’s do the same.

“Sorry Bellamy.” Lexa speaks up having found her wits before you did, “We can’t help it. Cuteness is leaking from our pores.”

He chuckles, “Well..I hope you know that if you hurt Clarke. I’m gonna call Anya and have her beat you up.”

Is this..the friend talk?

Oh God.

Bellamy is the worst.

But honestly you’re kind of giddy about it.

Lexa’s eyes widen and she tries to move her arm from around your shoulder but you grab her hand and hold tight.

“Yeah. Okay. I would never..I mean never but..threat understood. Loud and clear.”

And just like that Bellamy knows and accepts you.

They sit at the table with you and chat lazily and you enjoy watching the way Bellamy acts around Echo.

It’s new and it’s intriguing.

You head back to the dance floor when the tempo picks up again and you lose yourself in dancing and Lexa and Lexa and also Lexa.

You’re bolder this time when the music slows down again and you pull her close to you with eyes only for her.

One slow songs fades into another and another and it’s blissful and wonderful and you’re so very happy.

But the next song starts and a guitar leads in and then the singing starts and it’s a song you’ve never heard but it’s familiar somehow.

‘I can’t believe you left me just like that.’

‘It seemed so easy for you where we sat.’

‘It’s obvious I’m nothing to you Clarke.’

You head snaps up and you meet Lexa’s confused gaze.

‘Oh you left me crying in the dark.’

Oh no.

It can’t be.

“Murphy you fucking asshole!” Finn calls out as he rushes the booth.

The cafeteria is suddenly a mass of yelling and pointing.

And you turn to the booth to see Finn pull a laughing Murphy out of the booth.

Half the crowd is watching the fight that ensues and the other half is either talking about you or approaching you and you can’t.

You feel yourself being led away quickly and you follow once you realize it’s Lexa who’s pulling you by the hand.

You run out into the night and she leads the way to the bike which she mounts and you sit behind her in a daze as she pedals away.

It seems like forever and yet like no time has passed at all when she comes to a smooth stop and leads you over to a bench where you sit shoulder to shoulder in the chill.

“Are you okay?” She asks quietly.

By God.

You start to laugh.

This night has been so ridiculous and you just can’t help it as you devolve into hysterics.

She hovers, concerned for a few seconds before she joins you in your laughter.

It’s cathartic in a way nothing has been for a long time and you’re tingling with how good it feels.

You settle in her arms as your laughter dies down and you feel her press a kiss to the side of your head.

She breaks the silence after long minutes of looking down the hill and at the lit up school.

“So Finn sang a song..”

“Yeah, after the breakup he put a song up on SoundCloud...” You laugh, “And now everybody who hadn’t already heard it got a special show tonight.”

She squeezes your arms with a sigh, “I’m sorry about Murphy..I should have known..”

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted this.”

“Well I should have predicted something..I mean it’s Murphy.”

“I don’t mind it.” She turns you to look at her, “You’re okay?”

You nod and you genuinely feel it, “Yeah. I’m here with you.”

She smiles and it's full and it fills you and it gives you the courage to sit up.

“Clarke?”

You move away from her so you can face her fully, “Lexa, tell me if I’m being forward but I..do you want to maybe want to date..like officially?”

The words hang in the air and your heart goes tumbling down the hill but you’re here and she’s here and she’s watching you like she thinks you’re about to run away and you just might if..

“Clarke..I..are you sure?”

“More than anything, Lexa.”

You suck in a breath before your next words, “I want to call you my girlfriend.”

Her raised eyebrows are her only reaction and you gently lay your hand on hers to reassure her, and yourself if you’re being honest, that this is real.

But as the seconds tick by your doubts start to seep in and, “Lex..Lexa do you want...because you don’t have to..”

She shakes her head violently and places her other hand on yours, “I do..I want to..Clarke I..yes..I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Your heart comes rolling back up the hill and slams into your chest at a breakneck pace and you can hardly breath but you think your pure joy in this moment will carry you through because..

God..

The feeling is so immense.

She pulls you into a tight hug and you reciprocate, digging your fingers in her shoulders as you feel her fingers do the same and when you pull apart it’s only to meet again in a kiss that leaves you feeling like you can soar over the clouds and do anything.

And yeah..

Terrible classmates with their whispers.

Tests.

The looming threat of college.

Raven.

Your damn Volvo.

The bike you stole.

Her mom.

Your mom.

The world.

But.

You have a girl that just agreed to be called yours.

And you agreed to be called hers.

And yeah..

It’s just that simple.

So you lean your head against your girlfriend's shoulder as she wraps her arm around you.

And you both just breathe and enjoy the night that feels like it's just for you.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment yo and let me know what you think. Also come say hi on [tumblr](http://sovereignchicken.tumblr.com/) if you like.


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